


Blood and Name

by Pandora_de_Romanus



Series: In Mac's Bar Trilogy [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: AU from there, Bullying, Cannon Compliant up until Season 5 ep 10 of Supernatural, Canon-Typical Violence, Flashbacks, HP: Cannon Compliant up until the book7, M/M, Multi, Not Epilogue Compliant, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, PTSD!Castiel, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 22:19:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 32,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9518450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandora_de_Romanus/pseuds/Pandora_de_Romanus
Summary: Sequel to In Mac's Bar and Coming Home. Castiel Potter just started school. But in his family, school was never a safe business.





	1. Too Young to Decide, but bold enough to do it

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys like it. It is a bit of Cas' school life, and how he and Ted learn that "Family means more than Blood."

**SCORPIUS** **MALFOY**

 

The first time he heard of Castiel Potter he was on the Hogwarts Express.

He was sitting in a compartment with Appie (Appolonia) Crabbe and Percy (Percival) Zambini, both were childhood friends of his. Maybe "friends" was too strong a word but he had played with them countless times when he was little since their parents were good friends from their time at Hogwarts.

Truth be told, they bored him a bit, but he wouldn't risk a compartment full of strangers. He felt a bit of a coward but he didn't mind it. Slytherins were cowards by nature, that's why they survived most of the time when the Griffindors died the heroic deaths and lived on in legends only. He knew pretty well he would be a Slytherin. His mother has always told him, his father's whole family was Slytherin and his mother… Well, she had always taught him, better to be breathing coward than a dead hero. He knew that was the only reason there were still purebloods around. They had deserted the Dark Lord as soon as they had seen the possibility of their deaths and ruin and had begged the Ministry for forgiveness. He knew all that because he was such a curious boy. Because he was always asking all the questions he could about the Wars. It was a morbid subject but it fascinated him. His father had even screamed at him a few times for asking too many questions. For those which went unanswered he searched for books and people who had really been at the war. His quest was for the truth because he knew the books could lie just like people. He always had wanted to know how it was, really. Most his childhood friends said their parents were heroes for deserting the Dark Lord, but he knew they had only been scared. They were slytherins after all, better be at the side a merciful Ministry ready to make deals for information than that of an unforgiving Dark Lord.

Once, he had caught his father drunk at his office. It was late at night long after his bedtime and he had asked his father, Lord Malfoy, how he had survived the war. His father had answered: "Harry Bloody Potter saved me from death." It had been bitter and sad and he had been only 8 at the time. But he had never forgotten and he treasured it as one of the few truths his father has ever told him. He knew purebloods to lie all the time. To be treacherous among their own blood and to rarely trust. But he knew the power of Firewhiskey. His mother was a very wise witch and taught him all he needed to survive. Or so he thought at the time.

He remembered that afternoon so well. Frederic Thomas had passed their open compartment for the food cart and commented with a blond girl who reminded him a lot of his father's friend Pansy Rockwood: "Harry Potter's son is on the train." He had said and they headed for the front of the train where the infamous heir would be. Scorpius was itching to have a look at the boy but he thought it could be inconvenient. He knew he could be really inconvenient at times.

When they arrived at the school, he was full of wonder. The tall man, Hagrid, that welcomed them, he had never met anyone that tall, people said he was half-gigant. The Casttle looking over the lake, it was like a dream. Fully restored. Perfect again. He had seen dozens of pictures of a destroyed, burning Hogwarts in the books about the War, they never did the real thing any justice. It was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. It didn't have that ominous look most castle's he had known, had.

When they were at the stairs he caught a glimpse at the boy. There was no mistaking, he had to be Harry Potter's son. Scorpius had seen all pictures available of the man during the war. It was the same hair, the same eyes, but there was something different, he only didn't know what.

He was sorted just as he expected. Even though the Hat said he could be a great researcher if he engaged in Ravenclaw. He told the Hat he couldn't risk being the first Ravnclaw in the family. As always, he had been afraid, this time of his father's reaction to it. As he sat on the slytherin table, he kept staring at the Potter boy. He was talking with a girl, Weasley, said Appie by his side. Said the girl was the daughter of Ronald and Hermione Weasley. The two remaining members of the Golden Trio. Scorpius felt himself itching with questions, he wanted so bad to talk to their parents, but he knew they would never want anything to do with a slytherin, that they were the future pride of Griffindor. They both were Weasleys in blood, and there never had a Weasley out of Griffindor just like it was unimaginable to have a non-slytherin Malfoy.

When Potter sat on the stool he couldn't help but keep staring. To the whole hall's surprise the Hat announced:

"It shall be Slytherin!"

The hall went silent and everyone looked at Potter as if he was a death eater. He looked at the boy for a moment, as he headed down their table. Scorpius wanted to pity him. How would he tell his father? How would he explain this? It had to be a mistake. The boy on the other hand didn't seem afraid. He smiled at the Weasley girl who only looked mildly curious and ignored the nasty looks he received from his housemates. Scorpius looked at him and saw a kind of confidence he never saw on anyone before. On impulse, he had never done a thing on impulse before so it was quite a new experience, he decided to talk to the boy. Before he could stop he was babbling but he knew he had done the right thing when the boy, Castiel, extended his hand to his and smiled.

He would never forget that day nor that smile.

 

* * *

 

Three days later, he received a letter from his mother in answer to the one he wrote the night of the sorting ceremony. She congratulated him for making slytherin and asked to take care of himself. From his father he received a short missive congratulating him dryly and warning him to not get any close to the Potter boy, because Potters were beneath Malfoys even though they held higher titles of nobility.

He thought about his father's request and about his recent involvement with Castiel Potter. He analyzed it for all angles he could, after all, he was a fan of warfare study so he liked to analyze all possible courses of action before actually doing something just like any self respecting general would do.

It was three days since he started school and extended a hand to Castiel Potter. His life had turned south ever since, or so one would think. His boring friends had turned their backs on him and yesterday he had just met and befriended a Gryffindor, a Weasley, nonetheless, who according to his father were the scourge of pureblood society.

Rose Weasley, Castiel's cousin, the one he was talking to at the sorting cerimony, was surprisingly a very charming person and, on top of that, someone that could, actually, keep up with him when he was talking books. He had asked Merlin and all Magic above to send him someone who could grasp his theories and know the authors he knew. And to think it would be a Gryffindor! Like him, she read the books to prepare for lessons and really liked comparing authors. He laughed to himself briefly remembering that Castiel had even complained of a headache after following their conversation for an hour.

Cas, as Rose called him, wasn't an idiot either, he just didn't have patience enough for his or any other studies. He was a person with flawless magical instinct. So much so it came close to irritating. But he was a very interesting conversationalist on other matters. Scorpius loved to talk to him. Everything sounded better, inspiring and positive when it left his mouth. And he had a rough charm and a kind of drawl that reminded him of Americans.

Even if he was such nice person, most people feared him in school. Hated him even, not for himself, mind, but for what his father and his last name stood for.

That didn't change Cas, though. He was ultimately good and caring with those who deserved it. He was also a very simple person who abhorred formalities. He had taken to Scorpius so much that he would take him everywhere and present him to every one of his cousins, which were a whole bunch of people (Weasleys being definitely a big family).

On the other hand, he had his Father. Scorpius had always tried the "best son" act to see if he could please his Father. Never really worked. His father was stern and serious and had just one thing in mind, get back what Lucius Malfoy lost during the War. The money, the prestige, the influence… He was always working on that, and Scorpius knew he was just a piece on his father's chess game. A Male Heir, someone to carry the bloodline and family name.

His mother was the one that cared about him, not like the other mothers, she was a cold woman, but she was the one who taught him everything he needed to survive. He cared a lot about her, but she didn't had the power of attraction Castiel exerted over him. That's why even though his mother had warned him countless times about how stupid it was to befriend the brave, he made his decision.

Between his sour Father who would seldom grant him a word and Castiel who smiled at him at all times, who called him by his first name, who had grabbed a bed by the window on the far end of the dorm so he could have only one "bed neighbor" and asked if he, Scorpius, wanted to be this one neighbor.

He had decided.

To befriend the brave bids ill to oneself, his mother used to say. Keep company of the coward, they are easily bend and never inspire stupid actions of love and friendship for their friendship is empty and weak. When he decided, those words were the ones he most took to heart for he knew they were the ones most true. His mother was crude sometimes and cruel sometimes but she never lied.

When he decided, he knew maybe his destiny would be to die beside his friend like many had died for the Potters before him, and that decision was his first ever act of courage.

As he burnt his father's missive, he felt his heart warm with a taste of rebelliousness.

At least, he would live his life so fully it might as well make it matter as following his father never did.

Castiel who sat by him just smiled at him, his mouth grossly full of eggs and bacon.

They were having Care of Magical Creatures, first thing in the morning down on Hagrid's hut. He was so excited… It felt like the first day of a whole new life.

 

 

 

**TBC…**


	2. Chapter 2

_**CASTIEL POTTER** _

 

The night of the Sorting Ceremony he wrote a letter to his Dad and Dean about the whole business. About his sorting into Slytherin, about sharing a room with a bunch of stuck up boys who couldn't even unpack without House Elves, about having made a friend called Scorpius Malfoy. The only slytherin that had dared to talk to him.

He told them how he had expected people to be a little nicer than they actually were, but it didn't matter. Scorpius and Rose were always around to tell him it was not worth it to spend his time worrying.

He told Dean he would have a lot of fun if he ever came to the school since there were a lot of Ghosts around and that he would have a blast chasing Peeves, the not so friendly poltergeist.

He got a letter from them telling that they were ok, that his Dad was a little bit worried but then there was a scribbled line on the side that said 'when wasn't Dad worried about him?' On Dean's characteristic scrawl. That single phrase made him laugh alone on top of his bed and Scorpius looked at him with a question in his eyes. Cas made for him to sit on his bed with him, they were the only ones still up, and showed him his letter. Scorpius threw him another questioning look as he had to go over the rock salt line that surrounded Castiel's bed.

"What's that for, anyway?" Scorpius had asked.

"Keeps demons away." Castiel answered and Scorpius looked at him as if he was crazy, but a shadow of fear covered his eyes.

"Demons? There is no such a thing." Scorpius gave a fake smile trying to play Castiel's answer as a joke.

"You sure?" Cas asked with a knowing smile that made Scorpius' fear triple.

"There is NO such thing!" Scorpius said a bit too loud, as much to Castiel as to reassure himself.

"Shush!" Castiel reprehended with wide eyes, all the other boys were sleeping and Cas didn't want them into that conversation. His letter, his salt was just for them, him and Scorpius, their secret.

Scorpius toned down his own words. "Even if there was, how would salt hold them off?" Asked a bit afraid with all the talk about Demons. No author has ever proved their existence but many kept saying they were the source of all dark magic.

"Scorpius, it doesn't matter if you believe them or not… I'll be here to protect you." Castiel answered half joking with his new friend, but in his heart he was dead serious. Scorpius was his only friend in this whole school that didn't have his blood. Both his Dads had taught him to look out for his own and the moment Scorpius turned his back on his own friends to stick by Cas, he had become one of his own.

Like family.

 

* * *

 

Castiel was really excited about Hogwarts.

It would be the first time in six years that he would be on his own. Instead of being frightened, he liked to think about it as an adventure. Hitting the Road to make his own way. Just like he had with Ted when they had tracked Dean that day, a year ago. He felt proud of that even though he had hurt his Dad. The Ends had justified the Means since now his dad smiled more, and Dean was again a part of their lives and it all was better. He knew he did that, and he knew he could do great things. Not because of his Dad, not because of his magic, but because he had learned from Dean that any man can change his own destiny. And that to do that, all you need is guts, luck and an iron grip on what's right.

It's been 6 years of living in a family, where he had restrained himself from adventure because he knew his father would freak. Because he had promised Dean to be a good boy and take care of his dad. For that reason, he had obeyed orders of staying at home bored out of his mind when he knew pretty well he could slip out of Grimmuald's Place and see London, Muggle London. Muggle was another thing Dean stood for in his mind. A muggle who had defied Hell and Heaven. A magicless Muggle had stopped the Apocalipse with his own magicless hands. And Castiel stood in awe every time he thought about that.

Yes, any man could change his destiny if he had the will. That's why he hadn't freaked at being a slytherin. His dad had said it could happen, but that the ultimate choice was his and that was what made a man. His choices.

It was bit creepy to most people to think an eleven-year-old would think about what made a man or what it took to write his way. What could he know he was only a boy.

No matter what people thought. He wasn't like other boys. He had been to his own Hell when he was only three. He had never told anyone before, but one night on the roof, looking up the Boston skies he had told Dean about the pain. About being tossed into walls and felling his lungs fill with water. He still remembered how hard it was to breath with cracked ribs or how bloody your hair could get if you hit your head with enough force.

Dean on his part had hugged him like he used to do when he was 5 and Cas felt at home. He had a home now, but the pain he knew made him strong, Dean had said and he knew he was right.

When the blond boy, Scorpius, had offered his hand, Castiel had taken it because he believed the boy's honesty. Because his eyes held curiosity instead of scorn. Because he babbled and made him laugh like his cousins. He was fun to talk to, and he was really smart, like Rose.

Scorpius wasn't the brave kind of guy, Castiel found the more they talked, but he respected the courage it had taken to talk to him.

Every since the Sorting Hat had said his name, he was looked at as a traitor.

For the Griffindors, he was a traitor, because… what the hell, Harry Potter's son was a in Slytherin, he should be on our side!

For the Slytherins, he was traitor because he would never be like them. He didn't believe the formality nor the pomp, nor that purebloods were better than anyone else. They would never trust him because he was Harry Potter's son and he knew that by the look on their eyes.

But Scorpius didn't seem to mind. He laughed with him, and played games and told his stories about the innumerous Wars he had read about. Scorpius loved to hear tales of bravery, of truths that were never really known during the battles, tales of spies. He loved it all. He loved books most of all, and that was something Castiel was used to since Rose was just the same.

When they met for the first time they both got so carried away about having someone as crazy about books as themselves to talk to, they talked for at least 3 hours straight leaving Cas to try and follow the quick conversation about authors and theories he didn't know existed. That night he went to bed early with a headache. But even being left out of conversation by those two was fun. They got along so well… Castiel had never had a friend outside of family and Scorpius seemed like the real deal.

Scorpius had that magic power of accepting all the weirdness in his family without flinching. He took in stride the ugly glares from the boys in their house, in their room.

Castiel felt as if it was Scorpius and him against the World and he knew in his heart that with Scorpius by his side, they would win.

 

**T** **BC…**


	3. Not as easy as he thought...

Soon they got to the conclusion that Castiel Potter's life at school wouldn't be an easy one.

It started with the glares and the snobbish way every slytherin would ignore them. It was kind of lonely but they didn't care. Castiel felt he hd the best friend in the world so he couldn't be upset for being ignored by the other guys in his house.

When they noticed Castiel Potter didn't care less for their favor or lack there of, the position of Castiel's housemates changed. They would make fun of his hight for he was short like his dad, they would say he was stupid because his grades wasn't the best in class, they would say all the time he was dating the geekiest Gtiffindor ever since he was always seen with Rose and they would say he was a fucking loser because he was boring and weak and non important.

He didn't care much really. School was so much more fun if you forgot about the gits you had to deal with.

Then started the heavier stuff.

One morning, Castiel woke up and wouldn't find his books. They had class and his book-bag with his quills, ink, books… Were all gone and he had to go to class without them. Scorpius did his best to share his things but the teachers noticed and most of them felt affronted thinking he had done it on purpose because he thought himself better than other students and over the rules, they thought that arrogance came with being Harry Potter's Son. It hurt Cas to know that was what people thought of him, and he noticed. His teachers who were supposed to see him and not his dad couldn't go beyond Harry Potter's shadow. Even with Scorpius and Rose's help he still ended up in detention.

His three-foot essay on the uses of Asphodel on Magical Potions was gone and the explanation that it was gone wasn't good enough for professor Darcy.

By the end of classes, tired and stressed out he looked everywhere in the castle and, in the end, found his books. His new books his father had bought him in Diagonal Alley in that pleasant afternoon with Dean and Aunt 'Mione. His first ever books of magic, were found floating in the lake… The squid was playing with his scroll, the one with his homework, his essay that then was nothing more than a black blur on parchment. The afternoon he had spent with Scorpius in the library working on it, wasted.

That night he scrubbed clean at least a hundred caldrons under professor Darcy's supervision and when he got to their dorm, he and Scorpius still spent hours drying and cleaning what they could of his things, most of his classes notes totally destroyed.

That night was a sad affair. Even so, Cas smiled and joked, saying it was ok, that he could copy Scorpius' notes, they were bound to be better than his anyway and that it was cool because, after this he would never ever forget drying spells ever again. Scorpius felt his heart ache for his friend. Having to do something about it, he purposed they should talk to a teacher about it.

"No teacher would believe me after today, Sting." Castiel said, he had taken to call Scorpius by that nickname since Scorpius was a mouthful and Scor was just weird.

"They think I'm a lazy arrogant arse." He said and he could still notice Sting's shock when he cursed.

"How fun would that be? 'My homework was eaten by the squid, professor.'" He laughed.

Scorpius laughed with him. Only Cas could laugh at his own misfortune.

"Don't worry. I'm stronger than you know." Castiel winked at his best friend and they both went to bed.

 

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

That wasn't the only time his housemates decided to make his life hell either.

Scorpius was astounded at his best friend's antics. He had only laughed, when his hair had been glued. A good thing Rose had been beyond prepared. Scorpius loved his books, but Rose was so much more practical than him. She already knew the un-sticking charm when they went to her asking for help to look for it.

"I do have a pest of a younger brother." She had answered when inquired about it. "Sticking charm in the hair? Been there, done that." She explained, non-chalantly.

After that, all of Cas' clothes were soiled with house-elves excrement and he had to wear Scorpius' clothes that were too big for him. He had been made fun of by the other students and had received a lecture and detention from McGonagal for wearing clothes out the school's dressing code for she thought he was making fun of school rules again. But Castiel again proved that he didn't care. He cleaned the cages of all the animals they would be transfiguring that week without a care. Scorpius even heard him singing while he did it. Such levity was beyond Scorpius, wasn't his friend hurt by it all?

"Cas? Are you awake?" Scorpius had asked that night. Really intrigued.

"Now I am." Castiel had answered.

"I don't want to be rude, or… Anything, really. But I'm worried about you." Scorpius had said, tentatively.

"Don't be. I'm perfectly fine." Castiel had answered in that too chirp voice that always made Scorpius mad at his friend for not being mad at all.

"That's exactly what I'm worried about." He had said in anger, his tone rising. "You are always fine, Cas! People destroy your things, get you into trouble and you don't seem to CARE!"

"Keep it down, Sting, or they will complain we kept them awake at night." Castiel had begged in a whisper. He was in constant fear that these people, the ones who tried to hurt him all the time, would turn their mean eyes on Scorpius. So he was always careful to shield him from any kind of attention from others. Scorpius was his. 

There had been a sound of shuffling blankets and soon Castiel was being pushed aside so that Scorpius could lay on his bed beside him, safe and sound. That had made Cas calmer.

"Cas, it's not right what they are doing to you! And you don't even get angry at them! It makes me REAL mad!" Scorpius had said in hushed angry tones.

Castiel had looked his friend in the eyes, the moon making his pale features a little veela like, just like aunt Fleur's. He had smiled. "You shouldn't be mad. I'm alive, I have a roof over my head, food to eat, a soft bed, clean bathrooms, I'm learning about magic in the best school in the country, I have good friends and best of all, I have a family that loves me. I have no reason to complain. I can clean my clothes, I can dry my books. No one I love is hurt or sad. I'm have no physical pains. I'm perfectly fine."

"But Cas…" Scorpius had tried to argue. How could his friend be satisfied with so little? And Castiel's constant humiliation, made Scorpius very hurt and very sad, but he held back from pointing it out. He didn't want to assume he was one of Castiel's loved people... 

"Don't worry, Sting. I stash my valuables in a secret place no one knows about. The things they destroyed are just things."

"Cas, you're too good on them." Scorpius had said. His anger still bitter in his mouth.

"No, Sting." Castiel's tone was cold and in a way frightened Scorpius. He didn't grasp why at the time. He had never heard this tone on his friend's voice. "They just haven't found the right buttons yet. And for that we all should be glad. Us and them."

TBC…


	5. Achilles' Heel

It was on Halloween that Joshua Wilkes, Proud and Purist Slytherin that he was, discovered Castiel Potter's Achilles' heel.

Scorpius had made a brilliant presentation about the Goblin Wars on the day before and Castiel was elated that his friend was so happy. 

Scorpius wasn't someone to call attention to himself. Most times he kept out of the way, only speaking to Rose and Cas. And even if he knew most answers to the questions the teachers asked, he just answered to himself, in a mumble that was his only to hear. Scorpius not only was really shy about answering them out loud, he also knew Rose LOVED to answer so he let her, smiling when he got it right in his mumbles. 

When professor Bins had proposed the presentation about the Goblin Wars, it was because Scorpius' essay had been long and detailed and all around perfect. So Scorpius had decided to brave his shyness for a good lecture. For the good of the class, he had repreated to himself. He loved to study Wars, he knew all about them and he couldn't help but tell everything he knew about the Goblin Wars. He even lost some of his shyness and his stutter along the way. Cas had to admit that it was exciting. It took the whole lesson, and some students weren't as excited as Cas and Rose. As they applauded their friend at the end of class the rest of the students followed with much less enthusiasm. They couldn't appreciate History, they couldn't appreciate the effort made by Scorpius to go there, in front of everyone and talk. They only felt jealousy and hate for the freak that knew so much about Goblin Wars. As if he was a joke for spending his time studing it. 

The night of the Halloween, when Scorpius was walking down the Hall back to his dorm to share his sweets with Cas that left early because of a bit of stomachache, Wilkes saw him. Saw a geek boy, the best friend of the guy he most hated in school, the shame of slytherin house, walking on his own, carrying a pumpkin head full of candy.

Wilkes called his best buddy Rosier and they followed Scorpius to an emptier hallway.

There was a hard push on Scorpius' back, one that sent him to the ground, the sweets littering on the floor as if they were beads of a broken colorful necklace. He tried to get to his fours so he could collect his precious charge. The sweets he was taking to Castiel. He thought this had been one of Peeve's pranks but was proved wrong when he felt the expensive boots hit him on his gut. Once, twice, the third was on his face and he rolled on the floor trying to protect himself with his arms but they kept kicking him. He felt something wet and thicker than water come down his temple and a tang of a metallic taste flooded his taste buds as tried to cough. The pain made his eyes hazy. He heard someone else walk down the corridor and the pain finally stopped. The relief was such that Scorpius let himself relax and rest his eyes… 

Just for a bit, he argued with himself.

\---------------------------------

 

Scorpius looked ashen. Paler than usual, almost ghost like. He was black and blue all over his arms and face. There were cuts on his face and a big bandage covering his left eye. His right hand was wrapped up in a gauze and he breath in and out slowly, carefuly, for one of his ribs was cracked but not broken making breathing a bit difficult.

Castiel made a note of every injure. Every pain. He knew pain. Scorpius now did too. A bit… But pain was never a nice thing. Although it made you stronger, pain marked your life. Pain made you hate. Scorpius was too kind for hate. Hate was something that ate at you, that turned you less than human. Cas fought so hard to be human, to feel human. He still remembered hate, though. He still remembered how it felt to want someone's death so much that your heart filled with sick pleasure just to imagine killing that person. And to think he had hated his father that way... It made him shudder. The memory of his dad's neck under his palms as he tried to squeeze the life out of it... He remembered it, he remembered his dad's sad guilty eyes. And Dean's pleading stopping him. He felt glad for that. He could have killed his dad. But Dean didn't let him.

The hate he felt the moment he saw Scorpius on the Hospital Wing's bed choked him for he knew those injuries were handmade. He had wanted to maim and hurt and make them regret but he knew he had to calm down. That night he went out of the Castle into Honeydukes' cellar. The Shrieking Shack passage had been closed after the war. But he could still slip out of the castle unseen. A violator of curfew, but that was the least of his problems. The Marauder's Map took him to the sweet shop that was closed and empty. He had taken it from his father's bedroom before coming to Hogwarts. He had heard all the stories about it from his own dad, so when he saw it hidden in his dad's underwear drawer, he knew what it was and had to take it.

As he "alohomora"'d the door of the sweet shop, the cold night air hit his face and the heat of his anger felt hotter.

That night he practically run out Hogsmead and then some. The phone he held in a white knuckled grip finally blinked into life with a weak sliver of signal. The number was in speed dial already for it belonged to one of the people he most trusted in his life. It took just a few seconds for someone on the other side of the Atlantic to pick up.

"Cas, my man! What's up? Thought you would only write from Witchland." Said the known deep voice he associated with peace, comfort and safety since he was 5.

"Dean… They… They hurt him." Said Cas and he was desperate. He wanted so badly to break some bones, but he would be expelled if he did. He needed Dean to stop him again. Just as he had, so many years ago when he had almost killed his dad.

"Cas, calm down. Who hurt who?" Asked Dean from across the sea, his heart trapped by the panic in his boy's voice.

"Sting… They beat him up, Dean, they cracked one of his ribs, he is all black and blue." He was desperate, the angry tears falling, only Dean could know what to do and his voice begged for an answer. "And I… I want to hurt them, Dean… So bad. If I do that… I… Talk to me, please." He begged.

"Cas… Shhhh… It's all right. Sting is alive isn't he?" The question sounded rethorical, so as to calm the boy, to remember him that his friend was alive, that he would pull through.

"Yeah, but he is… He didn't know this kind of pain, Dean, he is just a normal boy from a rich family and he is nice, he didn't deserve it. They did it to hurt me." He explained to make Dean see that they…Their family was used to it, but Sting was innocent.

"Cas, when they hurt you, it wasn't your fault. You never deserved it. But it happened. There are mean spirits, evil creatures, and evil people. That's why I taught you how to shoot and fight. Because I needed you to be strong on your own because I wouldn't be there to help you while you were at school. You are there. You can protect Sting. That's what we do. We save people. We hunt things. It's our family business. You may not have the name nor the blood, but you are as much a Winchester as me, Sammy and Johnny. Ted is one of uss too. Even Harry is getting the spirit. And if Sting is one of your own… You have to teach a thing or two to the bastards that hurt your friend. But… You have to do it smart. Leave the idiot stuff to me. Sammy always says I'm king of idiot." Dean said with humor trying to ease to despair, to help Cas breath a bit.

"Yeah, I heard that from Uncle Sam." Cas said, finally able to smile, his anger and hurt ebbing away. He would give Sting his revenge. He would hurt them, no matter who they were, and that knowledge gave him peace. Dean always knew how to appease him and he was glad. He had to take care of his friend and let his blood cool so that he could think...

And hurt them where it hurt.

 

TBC…


	6. Life Sweet as Can Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Bonus Smut that we all Dean/Harry fans deserve!

Harry came to the room where Dean was organizing the stock of food and drinks for the bar and found him sitting in one of the big beer boxes. They had bottled beer even though most of the income came from the tap.

Dean was sweating like a pig from the heavy lifting of the boxes and even though it was autumn he had forsaken his t-shirt.

"Has anyone told you that you are pretty hot?" Harry asked coming down the stairs to the cellar, and letting his eyes travel greedly through the large expanse of uncovered skin of Dean's chest.

"No, not today, I think." Dean answered with a shameless smirk and Harry knew he had fallen for that man exactly because of that smile. Harry came real close to Dean's face, the hunter was still half sitting, and whispered in his ear. "You look positively edible this morning, Dean. All this sweat on you… It looks good. It makes me think of getting us both sweaty."

"Hmmm… Your words are too big, baby… Hermione is a bad influence on you." Dean answered him reaching out for Harry with his lips so that their mouths could find one another. It was slow at first but Dean was so warm and his skin was so close and his smell totally clouded all coherent thought in Harry's mind. It was musky and his mouth watered at the heat of the kiss and the taste of salt on Dean's skin from his sweat was driving the wizard positively crazy. It started with kissing but soon Harry had his hands traveling all over that sweaty skin, grabbing Dean's jeans clad butt as the other man pulled at his t-shirt.

It didn't take long for Dean to have Harry in his boxers only. He grabbed his wizard's ass and brought them closer rubbing their groins together. He kissed his lover's skin and bit at his earlobe and thanked, as he always did so, all magical or heavenly deities that made having Harry Potter in his arms possible.

He put two fingers in Harry's lips so that his man, his lover, his soul could suck on them. With Harry naked he went down on one knee balancing Harry's left knee on his shoulder to have better access as he licked Harry's rosy hole relaxing it, sliding in one finger at a time, slowly as to easy him open. Dean was never rushed in preparing Harry and that was love, that was care, that was Dean being Dean and being totally devoted to never hurting Harry. When the wizard was begging him in want, and he loved when Harry begged, he walked out of his own jeans not even conscious of what he was doing. Harry and those green eyes, the creamy skin and the swollen red lips and cock were all that mattered. Dean took Harry's legs on his hands again and lifted him from the floor pushing him into the cellar's wall. Harry let out a gasp at the impact but instead of chastising Dean for it what came out of those pretty lips was "Fuck me already or I'll go insane!"

Dean complied quickly. When Harry got that bossy there was no disagreeing with him. Dean fucked Harry into that wall as if there was no tomorrow. Rough and fast, like both of them loved it.

It was the only good thing about not having the kids at home, they could go at it anywhere! And Dean felt wild!

After they came with loud groans in the silent cellar, the sated smile danced in their mouths as they panted and they knew that this was complete happiness. They didn't need words as they stood on shaky legs and took uncertain steps up the stairs to their bedroom where they could sleep a bit before going back to work.

When they woke an hour had passed. Dean held Harry closer and prepared himself for a storm.

"Harry, Cas called last night." He said and that brought Harry's sleepy mind to full alert. 'Way to kill the mood, Winchester!' Dean argued with himself.

"Called? Dean, Hogwarts has charms that would make that impossible." He said smiling, trying to humor the impossibility of the call. Cas would only call outside Hogwarts and if he was in trouble. Harry didn't want to even think about that possibility.

"I know that. But he called. He was… Not well." Summarized Dean.

"What are you trying to say? Say it!" Harry was already off the bed pacing, he was, as always, already freaking out, but Dean was used to it by then.

"If you'll let me!" Dean snapped.

"Ok, sorry, I'm just…" Harry's fingers pinched the space between his eyes and tried to reign over all that anxiety that was boiling inside him. Why hadn't Cas called him?

"I know. He is ok, physically. But someone beat up his best pal. The Scorpius kid. It seems they ambushed him alone and beat the crap out of him. Cas was out of his mind." Dean said.

"What did you say?" Harry asked, analyzing everything that Dean had just explained. Scorpius Malfoy took a beating and Castiel was over the top worried. Harry still felt it SO surreal. How in all the hells was it possible that his kid would end up BFF's (as Dean would put it) with Malfoy's kid? Harry had hated it in the beginning. He had entertained the idea of prohibiting it, of advising against it, of telling his son how much of douche Scorpius' father really was. But then, he remembered Snape. Snape had judged him by his father's actions and he had hated every unfair second of it. A lot of people had expected him to be like James Potter and James Potter had been an ass in some aspects. Since that moment he had decided to give this kid, Malfoy's kid, a chance. So he kept his 'Malfoy Experience' to himself, which was a good thing since Scorpius hadn't stepped once out of line in two months. Castiel's words about him were always good and excited. Even he was a little sorry about the kid getting hurt.

"He was angry, Harry. Like 'I-wanna-break-their-bones' angry. Last time I heard him like that he was strangling you." Dean said looking in Harry's eyes begging for him to understand and Harry nodded, he understood. Dean had stopped Castiel last time so he had wanted Dean to stop him again.

"What did you say?"

"To do it smart." Dean grinned. And Harry relaxed, laying on the bed, his head finding its way back to Dean's shoulder. It was time for him to let Cas fight his own battles. Fear doesn't run in this family, be it Potter, Black, Lupin or Winchester.

TBC…


	7. Not as Smart as he had hoped...

When Scorpius opened his eyes he focused on a rock ceiling. It was soft around so he was in a bed, then. Not his own if he could see the ceiling, his bed had a canopy in dark green velvet. And it was really bright... Too bright for this bed to be anywhere in the dungeons. They had only a small window by Castiel's bed. He tried gathering more information about his surroundings. Cas was there. He was asleep on a chair, inclined over the bed Scorpius had been sleeping in. He was very close to Castiel and Scorpius took his time looking at his friend's face.

He looked pale and his eyes looked irritated. As if he had cried, but Cas wasn't the type to cry. His hair was of true black, not like some people's hair that looked black but up close was just dark brown. It was dark as a raven's feathers. He liked ravens, they were beautiful to look at, and much more graceful than owls. Cas had dark circles under his eyes, making him look a bit ragged or vampire-like. He had never seen a vampire up in person but there were books on them. Differently from Castiel's demons, there were accountings and sightings, and studies on vampires.

He moved a bit to have a better look at his friend's eyelashes that were incredibly long.

Castiel awoke at the movement and sat upright thinking it could be Madam Ponfrey and that probably she would kick him out. In front of him, though, there were a pair of gray eyes that looked like a cloudy sky just before a refreshing summer storm.

"Hey." Said the green eyed boy a bit conscious of having stared too long at his friend's eyes. Scorpius looked at him back, and there was an akward silence. Cas was SO happy to see him awake! It appeased the pressure that had built in his heart ever since he saw Scorpius hurt.

"How you feeling?" Cas asked softly and Scorpius thought about smiling. He didn't though. He looked down and looked sad for a bit.

"I'm sorry, Cas." Scorpius said, really low and serious. "I lost all your candy."

Castiel shook his head, as a wave of emotion engulfed him. He didn't know if he should laugh, cry... So he hugged his laying friend in desperation as if he would disapear if he let go. Scorpius felt pain flare in his chest at the weight but he let Castiel hug him. Castiel had never hugged him before and it felt so nice. It was so long since anyone had hugged him that Scorpius almost cried but he decided not to, he felt his cheeks burn slightly for wanting to cry. First it was girly and second Cas would think it was from the pain and he had worried his friend too much already.

"I'm too fat for candy." Castiel said, winking at his friend with a playful and very fake smile. He was sitting on his chair again letting Scorpius breath. He shouldn't have hugged the other boy, he berated himself, Scorpius was so formal all the time it only made sense he was blushing. Cas couldn't not notice, it was so… cute. Could a guy be cute? Well, Dean always said his father was cute. But they were lovers. Scorpius was just his friend. His best friend.

 

\------------------------

 

They spent one more day in the Hospital Wing before Scorpius was released and Rose made sure to bring all the homework from his lost classes and also lent him her notes which were perfect accountings of each class in a neat objective kind of way. Rose surely would be able to write textbooks soon because she surely had talent, her notes were meticulous and her conclusions almost scientific.

It was on the first day Scorpius was let out of medical care that it happened.

Castiel felt on his back a distinct and forceful push that sent him to the floor.

Remembering his lessons from Dean, he managed to roll on his back instead of falling face first on the ground. A few seconds later and he was on his feet looking up to a couple of bullies, Joshua Wilkes and Cyrus Rosier. It took just a look at their smug faces for Cas to know for sure. It had been them. Sting's right arm in a sling, the gauze on his left eye… He knew by heart most of Scorpius' injuries and now he knew who did it. The blond boy had been reluctant to talk about what had happened and Cas hadn't forced the issue because he wanted Sting to feel safe. Now… An evil satisfied feeling bloomed his heart.

As they pushed him, they attacked Scorpius too and his friend didn't have any training. He went to the floor. The smaller of the boys, Cyrus Rosier, kicked his friend's stomach and then his face. Castiel's blood burned his veins in rage. Joshua Wilkes, who had pushed him, didn't even stand a chance, as he was between him and helping Scorpius. He remembered Dean talking in his head as he dodged the guy's left jab and kicked his front leg in the knee. It broke easily with a crunch and Cas just passed him by as he fell to the floor holding his broken leg.

Cyrus, the one that had been kicking his friend, saw what happened. He came at Castiel, then, all fists to avenge his fallen friend. Castiel looked at the other boy as if he was joking. He was so clumsy, so weak. He was used to fighting with Dean who was so fluid in a fight that it looked as if he was dancing or Ted who had the reflexes of a dog, or a wolf. The boy that had been in front of him telegraphed his moves. All he had to do was use his right hand to direct the punch off of his face and grab the punch arm pulling it, and the boy attached to it, down using the boy's momentum to hit his face with his left elbow. It was almost as if the boy had fallen on his elbow face first.

Rosier's face was covered in blood from the broken nose Cas gave him, he picked himself up and went to help Wilkes. Cas only looked them over with cold eyes. They quietly retreated to the infirmary. Castiel knew how a broken nose hurt, he knew how a broken knee hurt, it was years ago but he still remembered. It didn't make him feel sorry. A broken nose was inconvenient but wasn't much. A broken leg was so much worse, but they would be mended by one of the best medwitches around. They should try and treat that on their own, no magic involved. That was difficult and he had survived.

Those boys would live.

To be continued…


	8. Words that Hurt More than any Punch

Scorpius hated himself.

He hated his parents for raising him the way they had. Why did his mother and father teach him good manners at the table instead of how to throw a punch? Or even a hex for that matter? Why did he have to be so WEAK? And problematic? And such a burden?

He was ashamed of his weakness. He was ashamed of being a burden to his best friend. He hated the fact that he couldn't do a single thing to help. That he was reduced to bleeding and aching. He wanted to be there for Cas, to have his back in a fight. To be there for EVERYTHING. He had turned his back on his father's ways, on his childhood friends and pursued a new life. What good could he be to Cas if he was just… a hindrance?

"I'm sorry." The blond boy said, catching his breath, feeling lower than a maggot.

Cas wasn’t paying that much attention to the boy’s words.

Scorpius had a bit of blood on the corner of his mouth from a split lip he got from the first punch Rosier used to take him down. He was all ruffled up and a bit flushed from everything, something uncommon for the boy since he was always pristine about his looks. Cas thought for a moment that he looked good that way, lips red, cheeks slightly blushing and before he could think much, he had just reached out his thumb and cleaned the blood from the corner of Scorpius' plump mouth. Scorpius on his turn, hissed a bit and froze on the spot… Not even his mother had ever touched him with such familiarity. He blushed a deeper shade of red.

Cas took back his fingers, awkwardly, and smiled apologetic.

"Sorry, you were bleeding." He said.

"It's ok." Scorpius said looking at the floor, still self-conscious. "Where did you learn that, anyway?" Scorpius asked trying for a change of topic. He wanted to know where he could learn to be useful, and how his friend was so good at it.

"Dean taught me." He answered and his eyes shone. "He is the muggle hunter I was talking to you about. He lives with us. Me, my father and my brother, Ted. He helps my father at the bar." He was so focused on talking about this “Dean” that the awkward moment just slid past them. Scorpius had never seen Cas talk with such respect about anyone, and it annoyed him.

"A hunter? Like a witch hunter? Like Salem?" Scorpius couldn’t help but ask his eyes going round with fear. He had read about the Salem Witch Trials too, and had heard of hunters and their guns and about burning American Witches and Wizards in stakes, about drowning them and all sorts of torture.

"No, Dean is nothing like that. He hunts magical creatures out of control, and demons. Especially demons." The brunet said with pride. It was clear to Scorpius that Castiel worshipped the floor this “Dean” walked upon. And got even more irritated. What was SO special about this… muggle?

"You and your demons again. Nobody has proof they even exist." He said purely to spite in a biting tone. Demons didn't exist and this “Dean” was only a muggle. It felt natural to say demons weren't there when the sun was chasing away any doubts. His fears were looking ridiculous now that he thought reasonably about them.

"Because muggles have no proof of our existence, does it mean we don't exist?" Castiel smiled smugly, sure of his point in this discussion.

"Don't be silly. Of course, we do!" Scorpius answered, more riled up by the minute. He hated to lose and argument. He was in pain, he was irritated and Cas kept taunting him about demons. It was preposterous!

"But there is no proof." Cas said with irony.

"Muggles are simple minded creatures. Very inferior to Wizards." Scorpius answered with venom, his eyes narrowed to slits, his sane arm crossed over the hurt one on his chest that puffed from being contradicted. He wanted to sound imposing and everything in him screamed his Malfoy inheritance. He lifted his nose in the air and his mouth twisted in disgust. He sounded exactly like the spoilt child he was, and that simple sentence hurt Cas like he was hitting a brick wall face first. And he remembered well what that felt like.

"Is that so?" Cas asked, so bitter he could almost cry. Damn, it hurt so much more to hear that from a friend… His BEST friend. It was all his father ever taught him to fight against. Harry Potter remembered the War and he made sure to teach his son what it was all about. And those conceited words were exactly that. Muggles were no different from Wizards if anything they were more resourceful for the lack of magic. And Cas could not abide by that kind of disrespect. 

"Nice to know where we stand." Cas' sarcasm was so much like Dean's that Harry would have thought it was Winchester blood pumping in his veins, instead of Potter, and just as hurtful, for the words were said with the viciousness of a betrayed Winchester and that was a force to be reckoned with. He pointed the way the boys who had just attacked them left to. "I'm sorry to have beaten up your… friends,” and the word was spit out, full of contempt. “I should have let you guys chat! I'm sure you'd fit right in with a talk like that. Voldemort would be proud!" Cas delivered his angry line without waiting for an answer. He turned and ran before his tears could show the blond boy how much he was hurt. He felt so stupid to have trusted Scorpius in the first place, so stupid for thinking he could be different from all the conceited purebloods in his house.

Scorpius stood there dumb-stricken and hurt. 

His eyes shone with tears and misery choked him.

If he had thought he hated himself before, he had just found out what REAL self-loathing felt like. And the curious part?

It was the first time he had ever felt like a true Malfoy.

 

TBC…


	9. Chapter 9

Harry was apprehensive as he walked to the Headmistress' office. He had already expected the letter after hearing from Dean about the talk he had with Cas over the phone. Their whole family was a bunch of vindictive son's of bitches, why would Cas be any different? Well, he wasn't. And that, in a way, was comforting. Made all this familiar, his actions predictable and that for parents was good because they could keep control. Parents were all about control. Harry himself was a control-freak after not having control of his life for so long.

He couldn't say why but his heart had been small after the letter, like it was constricted in a really small space and he knew it somehow had to do with Castiel. He asked Dean to take care of things at the bar and came as quickly as he could. He still remembered his parting words to his lover: "I thought you said you told him to do this smart!" To Which Dean answered outraged in his defense: "I did!"

"I guess he is just as stupid as both of us, then." Harry answered laughing, holding the letter from McGonnagal that called him to an extraordinary meeting at the school. Hogwarts seldom did this kind of thing. It meant that Castiel was, as Dean would put it, in deep shit with his teachers. Harry wondered, vaguely worried, what he had done to the boys who hurt his friends.

"Mr. Potter." McGonnagal said as way of greeting as entered her office. He barely had any time to speak with the Headmaster's paintings that time which was a shame. He had wanted to gather some info before entering. Snape had let on that his son was a barbaric buffoon that had to resource to muggle violence. Dumbledore had laughed at that and said "A loyal barbaric buffoon."

Well, that didn't sound so bad. He sat on the armchair in front of the Headmistress but watched intently the boy who sat beside him. Cas. He sat as if he wanted to disapparate from this world, his head was bowed down and his body shook slightly with a sob, as if he had been crying in earnest before his father had arrived. Harry wanted to take his boy in his arms and comfort him. It was a long time since he last saw his boy so sad…

"I was talking to Mr. Castiel here about his terrible behavior this morning." The old woman said, keeping her stern semblance. Minerva couldn't be biased or she would be unfair and that was the last thing she would ever be to a student. "Mr. Castiel, would you tell your father what you did to your classmates?" She asked the boy.

He looked at her, his sad look still there, but his disposition made it clear it had nothing to do with the matter they were discussing. He glared at her in his best "Winchester defying authority" look.

"I broke Rosier's nose, and Wilkes' leg. They will live. And they will heal perfectly. No big deal. They cracked Scorpius' ribs and they attacked us first, twice. They asked for it." He answered and there was no remorse in his voice.

"But, Mr. Castiel," said McGonnagal in her best counselor's voice, "Violence, magical or otherwise is not the answer. Not in this school."

"Tell them that!" He screamed bitterly pointing at the general direction of the door.

"Headmistress, would you excuse us for a moment?" Harry asked, his son wasn't in shape to have this conversation, something else was up.

The older woman raised to her feet and walked outside saying she would provide tea for their meeting.

Harry raised to his feet and kneeled in front of his son who was still sitting on the huge armchair that Harry think ofDumbledore. The chair was big for him and made him look even smaller than he actually was. Harry's hand went to the distressed face with red rimmed eyes and caressed it.

"What happened to you, Cas?" He asked trying to gather something from his son's eyes.

"Dad," Castiel said, his voice breaking as he said the word. "I wanna go home." He got down from the chair and threw himself on his father's arms, burring his face on his shoulder. "Hey, hey… What happened?" Harry asked, and his heart was even smaller as he petted Cas' hair.

"Dad… Why? Why can't they understand? There is nothing wrong with muggles, or werewolfs, or muggleborns… We are all just… people. Fuck, Dean is a muggle and saved the world a couple of times. He is nothing less than us!" He said crying, his face still buried on his father's neck.

"I know that. We know that. But people have to demean others to feel good about their own demerits." Harry kept stroking his child's hair as he was shaken by sobs. Castiel lifted his head and looked his father in the eyes clearly at a loss for the answer he searched from his father.

"Dad, Sting is a smart person, why does he have to say that muggles are stupid? Why does he have to… act just like the others?"

In that moment Harry felt sorry for Castiel. And felt very angry at the Malfoy kid... He cleaned his boy's tears with his thumbs, looking him in the eyes and his heart felt broken for his boy who couldn't understand why society had to hate itself. Harry wanted to say that Sting behaved like that because he was just like his father, that he was a spoilt brat that had no respect for anything that didn't scream purity of blood. But then he remembered Snape again, just outside this room hanging on the wall, all bite and judgment.

"I don't know, son, maybe I should ask him?" He told Cas and his son was torn. He decided then, it was just what he was going to do. "Let's do it this way, then. I go and talk to Sting about this and you at least pretend you are sorry for braking that boy's leg. Deal?" Harry suggested.

"Ok." Cas answered and shook his father's hand like it was a deal. Harry raised to his feet and let Cas, recompose himself, rubbing his eyes and righting his clothes. He even looked a bit contrite. Harry smiled at him.

"Good boy." He said and left to the room where the portraits of the Headmasters waited with the Headmistress.

"So?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He is all yours now. He seems to have grasped the gravity of his actions. But you can not ignore what those boys did to Scorpius Malfoy, either." Harry said. "I hope you are calling their parents too and have a long talk about punching smaller weaker boys. Even if I really don't believe it will work. After all, I know all about bullies." He spit bitterly at her remembering all bullies he ever faced. Duddly, Malfoy, Umbridge, Voldemort... Their age didn't matter they would always be bullies to him. 

"Mr. Potter, even though it is not your concern how I manage this school, I'll have you know that these interviews have been arranged. It makes me wonder, though, to have you so worried over Scorpius Malfoy." Minerva said looking questioningly at him.

"It makes me wonder too and since we are in the subject… May I speak to young Mr. Malfoy in private? Nothing formal, you don't have to scare the boy calling him to the Headmistress' Office. I just want to ask him something." Harry said casually. He batted his eyelashes at McGonnagal, trying for convincing innocence. He knew this would be totally out of any school rules but he needed to have a word with the boy so he prayed his Marauder Charm hadn't left him.

McGonnagal signed heavily in defeat.

"You'll probably find him in his dormitory. He hadn't been seen since the incident. I'm sure you'll find a way to let yourself in." She smirked at him and proceeded to have a long boring talk about violence with Castiel Potter.

 

\---------------------

 

Scorpius had decided. 

He was a fool. He was an idiot. He was an absolute Troll! Castiel was raised in the muggle world, he felt as good as muggle. And Scorpius, who had decided to stand by him and be his companion against his own father's wishes was just like everyone else who hurt him. Scoprius felt useless. What kind of ally was he, if he hurt the one he was supposed to be protecting, if he was a hindrance instead of an asset?

The rope on his hand felt heavy. It was thick too. 

The knot was well made. That book on Forms of Muggle Execution from the XIX Century had been really graphic and educative. He had already tied it to the window's iron fence outside and passed it through a loop of the chandelier. It was supposed to hold and the height seemed right from the top of the chair where he stood.

He looked again to the loop that would go around his neck moments before he jumped from the chair, the one that would break his neck or cut his air supply to death. It didn't seem like a comfortable feeling. But he HAD deserted his father and he HAD hurt Cas. He was no good to either. Even though his father would take him back he didn't know if he could just… In two months he had been closer to being happy than he ever did in his whole life. In two months he had enjoyed his life more than he had done ever. He had laughed and made true friends and had adventure and met a truly good and brave person. Castiel had everything to be a true hero. And he would never get used to not having all that.

He put the lasso around his neck.

He looked at the ground. Sniffed and held back his tears. He had to face death with dignity. He thought of Cas' smile one more time and closed his eyes ready to jump from the chair.

A voice, though, broke all his train of thought.

"Would you mind explaining what are you doing?"

It was an adult's voice and he felt ridiculous being caught in the act. It would look immature and overdramatic, he knew that. He opened his eyes slowly and analyzed for a moment the short man with black messy hair. He wore black trousers, black boots, black trench coat and a blood red sweater. Total and completely muggle fashion he noticed and the man's eyes were green just like Castiel's. The man looked puzzled at him.

"Uh…" He stuttered, feeling foolish. "I… Intended to… End it." He answered making a vague gesture about himself.

"You mean your life?" The man asked matter-of-factly.

"Precisely." He answered the man again, trying not to look so silly.

"Why would you do that?" The man continued his inquiry and he looked genuinely curious.

"I'm not really smart, sir." He answered simply. That was what he felt really.

"I know someone who would beg to differ." Said Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, War Hero, Most Powerful Wizard Alive, Order of Merlin, First Class. Cas' father.

"I… Said bad things, cruel things to Cas, sir. He won't forgive me." Scorpius answered looking at the floor feeling foolish standing there, in the chair with the lasso around his neck.

"How do you even know that? Have you talked to him yet?" Mr. Potter asked. 

"I offended the world he came from, the people he sees as family… He won't even look me in the face." He explained, as if the man was thick for not understanding the situation. He paled at his tone immediatly. He shouldn't be impertinent to the most powerful man in the England.

"How do you even know that?" The man just asked, seeming unfased at his impoliteness. 

"Well, because no one would?" He raised an eyebrow like he was stating the obvious.

"No one? You know, Scorpius, when I was your age and studied here, there was this boy that would pester me every chance he got. He cheated in quiddich, got me hurt on many occasions, fought me in the corridors, made fun of me and my friends all the time, landed me in detention. He even tried to be a Death Eater." Harry Potter told him, coming closer and taking off the lasso from around his neck. He even went further and held him as he got down from his chair.

"Then he let one of his friends try to kill me. And when he was about to die in a fire, you know what I did?" Harry asked as he sat in Scorpius bed and Scorpius sat on the chair he had been standing. The boy looked at Harry Potter, the man he had always wanted to talk to, and answered what he knew any sane person would do.

"Let him find his untimely death?" He asked, unsure.

"If I had, we wouldn't be having this conversation. I saved your dad when no one would, and what I'm trying to tell you is that… Well, it is a genetic trait, being different. You should talk to Cas, set things right. Trust in your friendship. He is hoping for you to do it."

"Thank you, sir. I will."

 

TBC…


	10. Chapter 10

It was late that night and they had slipped outside. Cas wanted to breath fresh air, he had told his friend. It was the full moon and Castiel had wanted to look at it. Some things about that boy Scorpius would never figure out.

He had been missing home. And looking at the moon made him feel better. He knew somewhere his whole family was mobilized to keep Ted out of trouble on the Full Moon, and looking at it made him feel a little bit closer to them. Ted could get nasty on the full moon.

"Why are we out here, again?" Scorpius asked, shaking a bit. "It's cold." He complained.

It was early December and the wind was cutting on their skin, the snow covered the fields around the lake which was starting to freeze. By Christmas' time it would probably be perfect for Hockey. Cas' heart warmed at the prospect.

"We are here to ask the moon to be kind, Sting. Most witches and wizards don't think about her anymore, ignore her in the sky, but she used to be mother to all witches and wizards. The Moon is very powerful. Old magic and all. My brother has werewolf blood. He gets restless and violent in the full moon. Dean and dad usually have to keep him home. When it gets really bad, they have to get him locked up in the panic room." Cas focused his eyes on the bright silver moon that reigned over the night sky.

"What about Wolfsbane Potion?" Scorpius asked, chattering his teeth even if he was wearing a heavy overcoat lined with fur.

"It doesn't work. He's only half wolf. And half metamorphmagus and his body chemistry screws up the effects of the potion. It's not safe to use it on him. My brother's existence is a miracle. The books say that werewolfs can't have kids of their blood after they get bitten."

"Of course," Scorpius snorted, good humoured. "No one in your family could be remotely normal."

Cas laughed. "Talks the first Malfoy in History to turn on his family and befriend the freaks instead of the high and mighty."

"Must be a freak myself." Scorpius answered lightly and smiled with his best friend. Ever since his fight with Castiel in the beginning of november he had tried more and more to understand his friend and to enjoy his company. To see the world through his eyes. Castiel was a being of delight and he delighted in being himself. Cas was different from everyone else. He had forgiven him and hugged him close as soon as they had talked it all out and put to rest their differences. His father had been right. And both of them were so unique. His brother was also different, the only half werewolf/ half metamorphmagus ever. The Weasleys were also known to be an odd bunch. If Scorpius wanted to be a part of the team he had to try and embrace his freakishness and enjoy it just as much as Cas. The funny thing was just how much he came to enjoy it, how much it was fun not caring so much what other people might make of him.

"There isn't a rebellious history on my mother's side either. I think they were all killed on both sides, you know. And they are only waiting for my father to sire another child to kill me, so that I won't shame them in the future." Scorpius said, still lightly. Cas was getting more and more used to his grim thoughts. They came so easily to Scorpius that Cas made special efforts to keep all that darkness afar. He could bet Scorpius had never seen a moon as beautiful as the one they shared that day.

"Don't be silly. Nobody will lay a hand on you on my watch." Cas said in a light tone, but he meant every word. When he almost lost Scorpius in November, was the moment he most noticed just how important he was. So important. One of his own and sure as hell Castiel Potter would protect his own. It was on his blood to do so.

"You won't be around on Christmas." Scorpius pointed out sadly. He couldn't go home, not if it meant spending tim ewith his father, but Castiel would. He loved to be with his family, his huge endless family. Sting was a bit jealous of them. They had so much love from Cas and each other... Scorpius on the other hand… Scoprius only had Cas. He had been depressed by the perspective of a lonely Christmas ever since he first thought of it.

"I will if you come with me. To Boston. You said you were planning on staying in school to avoid your father. We could forge a letter or something. You could meet everyone!" Cas glowed with his sudden idea.

"Cas… McGonnagal is not that stupid."

"Well, if we don't try we will never find out."

"I wonder where this kind of malice comes from, you know… Your father is one of the good guys, but you… You can be evil when put yourself to it."

Cas' eyes clouded for a second. And his voice got stuck. He wasn't evil, Dean had told him that. If he made sure to fight it, he would succeed. Uncle Sam fought the Devil in his mind and won. His mother's blood was nothing.

"Remind me to tell you about my mom sometime."

 

 

TBC…


	11. Meeting the Parents...

What really impressed Scorpius wasn't the fact that Cas indeed had the courage to try to fool McGonnagal… It was the fact that he actually accomplished it.

He felt giddy as they stepped on Plattaform 9 ¾, he had never tried to fool a teacher before. Castiel had this effect on him… Doing things he had never done before. Daring to stand up to the norm! He felt like a rebel fighting against tyrany!

The man standing there, waiting for Castiel, was the same that had talked to him that day he decided to die and then not. Harry Potter. The most powerful wizard in the world… And he was wearing muggle clothes again. This time, it was a heavy dark blue coat with a zipper in front and a pair of jeans. Much less formal than last time.

As the boys approached, the man opened a huge smile and he hugged Cas as if he was a little boy. Sting was a bit jealous but then the smile was turned at him, and the hand that offed Voldemort messed his hair accompanied by a light chuckle, as if he too was a little boy. He should have felt diminished, but he didn't. He understood that Cas' family was all about affection and in his world, the world of the Aristocracy only little children got affection, sometimes not even then. Scorpius decided he really liked the Potter way, the muggle way. Affection was nice.

"Scorpius, I'm so glad you will spend Christmas with us! Cas would be very lonely without you there to keep him company. It really is a surprise your father was so allowing." Mr. Potter said and Sting felt his heart warm at being cherished but also very nervous about their 'little' lie. His father thought he was at school for Christmas, but Mr. Potter didn't have to know that (or so said Castiel when he had asked). It was easier not to think about how much trouble they would land themseves into if anybody found out he was with Castiel in Boston without his father's permission. It was better to feel good about what Mr. Potter said. He knew Cas had thousands of cousins… He would never be lonely in the holidays but it was nice, nonetheless. It was fun to think about something like that… If someone ever asked him to write and essay on Harry Potter he could say that the man wasn't just a great dueler, or someone who understood magic as no one ever did… He could write he was nice. And kind.

Kinder and nicer than his father, anyway.

"Dean! Deeean! We're home!" Castiel screamed at the bottom of the stairs on the back room of what positively looked like a bar. The building had wooden windows painted red, dark blue walls and a good space for tables to be place near the curb, outside. Inside, it had more red and blue and white. There were flags, and signed shirts, and helmets, and long curved sticks, everything stuck to the walls. There were big black squares (flat-screens, Cas had called them) on the walls too, that could be seen from anywhere in the bar. There were lots of tables and chairs close to the doors and others that were already in place, inside. There booths close to the walls also, like a dining area. A nice wooden counter and behind it more 'flat-screens' between shelves and shelves of alcoholic beverages. It had, a second floor and the door for the backroom and kitchen was just beside the counter. The kitchen was nice and white and clean looking. The backroom had stairs that led up and down. Cas climbed up as if he was running up to heaven, such was the delight on his face. Scorpius had never seen his friend so alive before, it was as if it was Christmas right now and not in a few days.

Scorpius was nervous as he climbed, slowly, step by step. He would meet a hunter. He would meet a muggle hunter that was accepted and liked by Castiel and Harry Potter. He was to meet Dean Winchester and he hoped to all gods that he would not offend the man and make a fool out of himself. Or hurt his friend again. He had to be flawless. He decided he would use for the first time in a while his well taught education. His refined manners.

The door opened to a simple and small living room, but Scorpius had expected that. He lived in a huge state; this was a house above a bar in downtown Muggle Boston, America. No expansion charms. At least the furniture looked a lot more comfortable than the one he had back home. Most furniture in Malfoy Manor was Victorian, there were lots of magical objects and cursed things. It wasn't that safe. At least, here things looked so modern they had to be harmless. There were some things, though… Weird things, symbos hidden in the decoration. He remembered some of them from runes. Protection symbols, pentacles, sigils… Some of them were ancient. He knew from the books he had read from the Malfoy Library, books and scrolls so old they would have fallen apart if it weren't for the protection spells used on pages and papers…

"Cas!" said a deep voice of a tall man, interrupting his careful analysis of the secret markings. He was taller than Harry Potter, taller than his father and a lot bulkier than the both of them. He was wearing a white apron and it had "Kiss the Cook" embroidered in it, which he took off the moment he saw them. He had dirty blond cropped hair and hugged Cas just like Mr. Potter had. He even lifted the other boy from the floor.

"Man, how long it's been? Three to four months? You got taller!" Said the man he supposed was Dean Winchester. If he wasn't a wizard he would have been intimidated even if the man wore such a tacky apron. Who was Scorpius trying to fool? He was intimidated, this man's mucles had muscles and Cas said he had taught him to fight. He tryed to keep his fear hidden.

"Yeah, I suppose. I can't stay a kid forever, you know? Even if you and dad would love that." Cas answered. "This is Scorpius. I told you about him, remember?"

"Course. What's up? Magic school has treated you guys right after the whole thing with those bullies?" He asked, direct to the point. Scorpius could appreciate that in a person.

"After Cas broke Wilkes' leg and Rosier's nose… Well, they have been leaving us alone." Scorpius said, full of respect and admiration for his friend. He said it without thinking and immediately regretted it. It slipped. He was personally proud of Cas for that, for him standing up against the guys who had hurt him and who had made their lives hell for so long but he knew McGonnagal had called Mr. Potter after that incident. That Cas had been in trouble for that. He paled, panicking inside.

"I heard about that. What was it? Short kick to the knee?" Dean asked Cas as if it was natural and Scorpius heard the distinct pride, the same one he felt, on the older man's voice. He flet relieved.

"Yeah, and elbow to the nose." Cas answered with a slight smile. Sting himself was smiling at the exchange.

"That is a nasty one!" Dean Winchester laughed and Mr. Potter rolled his eyes in mock exasperation as he said. "You turned my son into a brawling rufian."

"Me? Do you really want me to start on it, Mr. Golden-Boy? Hermione told me about a lot of the shit you and Ron pulled out in School." Dean Winchester said, still in a joking mood, putting his arms around Mr. Potter's waist and brought him close for a kiss. Mr. Potter on his turn kissed him back and said in a low voice that wasn't meant for Scorpius but which he heard nonetheless. "Dean, we have guests."

"He might as well see it now. I'm not going to 'not kiss' you because of him the whole holiday." He said louder and kissed Mr. Potter again.

"Sting doesn't mind, do you?" Cas asked as if the display was very common but Scorpius knew his friend and he knew that deep down Castiel was really nervous about this. Cas had forgotten about that. It was so normal, Dean and dad together and all that, that Cas had totally forgotten that he hadn't told Sting that fact. Gays and lesbians weren't seen with good eyes in the Magical World, they were even less acepted than in the Muggle World. Dad and Dean were a couple who loved each other very much, and that love was deeply respected after all they went through. Cas wanted Sting as family, as a brother but for that, Sting had to be open minded as a lot of people weren't. That was why most neighbors were led to think there were 2 apartments in the second floor instead of one and that Dean was a partner in business instead of his father's lover.

They weren't legally a couple but for almost two years now they had acted and led their personal lives as one. Dean was as much Cas and Ted's father as dad. Cas looked at his friend pleadingly without even knowing he was doing it.

Sting was a bit shocked. He can't deny that. Harry Potter had a lover. A MALE lover, at that. He knew there were rumors, but he never thought… His father would have a field day knowing that. He knew then that everything he had shared with Cas so far depended on this very moment. So he decided. He would tell his Father. Cas had brought him to his home, to meet his father, his brother, Dean. He hesitated a moment, a second if you will, but he did not let his friend down. The friend who accepted him even if he was a pure blood and a Malfoy and prejudiced with muggles. The longer he stayed with Cas, the more he learned he couldn't hold any grudges or prejudices. His family had all the misfits ever, and Scorpius felt more and more that he deeply wanted to be one of them. These misfits stuck together, as normal people would NEVER understand. It's more than blood or name, it is comprehension in a totally different level. He wanted that.

"I… No, not at all." He answered and Dean smiled at him with pride. He had never met the man before but his approval meant something.

"You got yourself a smart one, Cas." He winked at the green eyed boy.

"I already knew that, Dean. Sting is the best friend ever!" Castiel said and smiled at his best friend, a smile that could light up the whole block.

 

To be continued...


	12. New Experiences

Life at the Potter/Winchester Household was, for Scorpius, a total alien matter.

Mr. Potter had breakfast ready about 9h30 every morning. Mr. Winchester would also be up and helping. It was really hard for Scorpius to imagine how they could be up so early if they went to bed so late. The Bar closed at 1 am and they stayed later to clean and tidy things up 'till 3, normally. And they would be up at 8h00 to get breakfast ready. Cas explained they both never slept long unless it was Monday, their so called day off. They would sleep in until 10 and Cas would fetch them some cereal instead of Mr Potter's wonderful eggs and bacon. That was another one of those things no one in history books would talk about. Harry Potter was, as Mr. Winchester would so correctly put, a 'kick-ass cook.' And he was so simple. Everything in that muggle house was simple.

There was work at night, breakfast in the mornings, hockey in the afternoons if they managed the time. He learned to skate and play so fast he soon was pairing up with Cas against Harry and Dean. But some days they woukd try something different.

"Are you ready to have your asses handed to you in a plate, Potters?" Dean Winchester asked looking down on his opponents in challenge.

"How do intend on doing that, Winchester? You, and what army?" Mr. Potter scoffed at him so vehemently Sting felt intimidated.

"Me and Sting? We're gonna kick your collective asses!" Mr. Winchester said with a smirk and wink. The people in that house were always so confident and full of themselves it never ceased to amaze Scorpius. The way the blond hunter talked about them it sounded like they were professionals or something. Sting remembered looking at Dean Winchester as if he had grown another head. The man smiled at him and said:

"Man, if you don't believe in yourself, who will?"

Mr. Potter laughed and completed:

"And, of course, if you tell yourself the same lie enough times maybe it will come true. Isn't it, Dean?"

"Lying, huh? Let's see about that. Bring it on, baby." He answered and threw the puck. All the banter was just that, banter. There weren't bad moods in that house… Well, if Scorpius said that, he would be lying. The bad moods came when sometimes Mr. Winchester had to leave. He had witnessed only two of these occasions. The hunter would take the big black classic car out of the garage and pack a few duffle bags.

"Where is he going?" He dared ask the first time he saw that as Cas watched worriedly the black car turning the corner.

"There is a hunt three towns over, Uncle Bobby called yesterday." Cas answered, and Scorpius heart was small as the frown in his best friend's brow deepened.

"You have a big family… Never can get hold of all the names, have you ever told me of this Uncle Bobby before?"

"Uncle Bobby is an old friend of the Dean's. He was friends with Dean's father. He was a hunter. Lost his legs hunting. Dean and Sam, Dean's brother, are his legs now. They go hunting every time it is needed. If only the American Ministry would do their damned job!" He said the end more to himself than to Sting and he felt sorry for his friend. Dean stayed away a whole week. A week in which Cas smiled a lot less and it barely reached his eyes. Mr. Potter would wake up a lot earlier than normal and the bags under his eyes were a ghostly purple, he even ordered take-out twice that week. Mr. Potter had never ordered take out as long as he had been there.

Dean was back, though, and better yet in one piece. He was a bit bruised and had a gash on his shoulder, but he was ok. Cas' smile just went back to its usual shining self and Mr. Potter cooked the best pasta he ever tasted that night. He understood a lot about family that night and how his own family, his blood family was nothing but a theater of appearance.

Ted, Cas' brother was really nice too, but they saw little of him. He worked administrative hours at the Ministry in London. He still had an office job but what he really wanted was to go to field. Once he had seen a strange look in Mr. Potter's eyes while Ted told him that. For some reason, he thought that Ted's office job had something to do with Mr. Potter's influence, but he could only guess the truth. That was another thing he learned about family in that stay at the Potter/Winchester Household, not always the best for you is what you want, and not always you get what you want and that is a sign of love.

Ted always rented movies to watch with them, though, even if he would fall asleep halfway through them. Cas said he worked too hard and that bureaucracy would someday kill his brother. Ted brought the Prophet every night too and it was his only link to the Wizarding World. They did everything muggle style and Sting and Cas would always care for the house's dishes. It was just rinse and put in the dish washer but it was more than Scorpius was used to doing. He didn't mind, though. He felt useful. Muggles were quite inventive if you got to analyze it. He wouldn't mind being muggle if he thought of it. Muggles had a bigger world than Wizards. And if you wanted comfort and prestige, you had to work for that. It had nothing to do with blood or name.

And there in this big muggle world even with their blood and their names, these guys were just guys. A bunch of guys living together.

Scorpius knew of the Potter fortune, of his titles of nobility, of everything he earned for defeating Voldemort… His father had told him all about it out of spite. And then he met Mr. Potter, the most powerful man in the world, and he worked a bar and cooked for a bunch of drunks on a nightly basis.

That was humility. A concept so alien to Scorpius' world but he got it in the first glance. That was what Dean Winchester had told him once, about a person's character, and it all had nothing to do with blood or name.

TBC…


	13. Christmas

Christmas was festive and fun! There was dinner at Grandma Weasley's home and most of the Weasley family crowded the place.

Scorpius had never seen so many people belonging to the same family under the same roof. There were hundreds of pda's (public demonstrations of affection) which should have made Sting blush but they were so commum in Castiel's house that he got used to it. Everyone was affectionate even to him and even if it was a bit strange at first he got the hang of it and by the end of the evening he was hugging Mrs. Weasley out of his own accord.

He ate Christmas things his mother had never had made for him, peasant things that would never grace the Malfoy feasts but things that were so tasty he thought he was in heaven. Merlin! He couldn't even remember the names of the things he ate! Most of these things had something else that was new to him, though… It tasted a bit how he hoped love would in food. And that warmed his heart.

He even got gifts, he hadn't been prepared for it and felt self conscious for not bringing any gifts to anyone himself, but they were very special gifts, the ones he got. His pocket money wasn't that much and he had spent most of it with Cas' gift the only one he had planned. No one cared or expected gifts from him though. And they were happy simply for seeing how much Scorpius enjoyed those gifts. And he enjoyed them deeply because they had special meanings. Mr. Winchester got him an emergency cel phone, saying that if ever he got lost on the muggle world, or needed them, that he should call them. That was his way of saying 'count on us.' Ted bought him a copy of Mario Puzo's "The Godfather". He had loved the movies when Ted had rented them and they had watched one after the other, non-stop. Ted thought he would like the original book, since he was a book kind of guy. That meant 'don't forget what you lived with us'. Mr. Potter gave him a book too, on Defense Against the Dark Arts. The most amazing thing? It was full of little notes written by Mr. Potter himself. He had made it for Cas and made a copy for Sting, it was signed by a Half-Blood Evans. It meant 'I want you safe'. And Sting felt like never before, like somebody besides Cas cared if he lived or died. He had to work very hard not to cry and he managed that hugging each one of them like Cas had the habit of doing.

It was a magical Christmas.

The next day, they went to Uncle Bobby's house. It was a junkyard. Sting wasn't all that familiarized with cars and rust, so he got weary when Dean told him to be careful with cuts so he wouldn't get tetanus. The whole place was creepy but fun at the same time. It took sometime for him to feel relaxed but everywhere Cas felt as free as he felt at the junkyard was good for Sting.

Dean got to try and teach him and Cas a bit about cars and though Sting thought it was pointless since he would never have use for cars, he decided to learn just because Dean felt SO alive when he spoke about them. There he met Dean's brother, Sam, his wife Jane and their son Johnny who idolized Cas. The three of them played a lot among those rusty cars. While being with older people was nice, to play hide-and-seek like the little children was awesome too. Specially since his mother never permitted him to take part in this kind of game when he was younger. She used to say the flushed look was inappropriate for a young man of his birth. Well, he got flushed and dirty and laughed hard and loud and rolled in the snow with the boys without a care in the world. And he totally loved it, he felt alive with all the laughter and good feelings in the world.

Staying at the Singer Salvage Yard for a few days was a liberating experience. He, Cas and Johnny behaved like savage animals in the snow and the cars and all. He loved the place and the people. The real muggles, were really kind to him. In a different way, a more rough around the edges way but they were true and honest. He really enjoyed that.

So when he looked at Uncle Bobby in his wheelchair he kind of felt his heart really small… He decided then, that he cared for the whole bunch of them. That they all were important to him. If they were in the Wizarding World he was sure someone would have solved Uncle Bobby's problem… There weren't handicap wizards from non-magical injuries. But when he asked Mr. Potter, the man explained he didn't have what it took to repair it himself. Nor did Mrs. Hermione who was only good on first aid. And an injure like that there was no taking chances. When Sting asked about St. Mungus, Mr. Potter said he wanted Bobby far away from the Wizarding World. Hunters were always Hunters. And wizards were always wizards. Sting thought long and hard about this… Mr. Potter didn't explain any further but he had never been stupid. He remembered his own reaction to knowing Cas knew a Hunter. Wizards feared and hated hunters. Specially after Salem, it wasn't the worst but it was the most recent Witch Massacre promoted by Muggles, and they were all Hunters. As most hunters didn't know about wizards and killed them just as they would end Demon-Pact-Witches.

He made a promise to himself that night. For what this family had done for him… He would find a way and he would put Uncle Bobby on his own two legs. The sooner the better.

TBC…


	14. Chapter 14

Rose Weasley was a smart girl. 

She was always top of her class. Very practical and very simple in anything she did. Curious by nature, she was very protective of her family, as it was the way they've all been brought up. 

Since her first day at Hogwarts, she knew the only equal competitor in the academic field that she would ever have was the small blond Slytherin bookworm that had befriended her cousin Castiel after the Sorting Ceremony . As classes went on she could see he was well versed in history and was flawless in potions. He was also better than her in both those subjects, actually, and for that alone she had wanted to hate him. She had wanted to make fun of him and crush him like a cockroach with a few well put sharp words. Her mother had told her about the Malfoys and she saw those stories in that boy. That blond small and cowardly boy.

But, then she saw that boy stand by her cousin as though those bullies weren't scary at all. 

Then she saw that boy speak for him. Then she saw that boy take the beating of his life for her cousin. Scorpius Malfoy, Sting, was better than she ever was to her cousin Cas. Scorpius Malfoy stood by them as no one else in that school did, and he was a Slytherin, just like Cas. She envied them, they were always together and she had to stay at Gryffindor Tower, which was a lonely place for people as smart as she was, but she already knew that. She knew how her mother had felt lonely in her first year until she met her father and uncle Harry. She suffered even more because she was always hanging out with Slytherins most of the time which didn't make her especially popular. And Slytherin losers at that. Her housemates took her for a traitor, but she couldn't care less. Brainless people couldn't understand. How important it was for her to stand by her cousin and how it was important not to be less than a friend than Scorpius was. Because Scorpius was a Malfoy. It would be too much shame for her to be less protective of Cas than Scorpius was and Scorpius worshiped the floor Castiel walked upon, and he wasn't even family! She envied him and competed with him all the time but it all came so naturally to him, the moron didn't even notice how much she did as an effort to keep up with them and their codependent totally unheathy relationship. She tried really hard to be a part of 'them'. 

But it was always 'them' and Rose.

She trusted and liked Sting to a degree. More or less, in a weird jealous way. Because she liked and admired him, but she was just SO jealous of what he meant to Cas and what Cas meant to him. Sometimes she wondered if they even noticed she existed… 

Their secrets were shared between 2 and never three and it was lonely. 

Lonely not being part of the Silver Duo. She tried really hard to befriend Sting. She thought it would be easier since they had the same interests, books mainly. But it seemed, all Sting could talk about was Castiel, and his house, and his parents, and Christmas at the Junkyard. Cas has never invited her to meet his Winchester cousin, Johnny. The Winchesters, even though Dean was at all family reunions, seemed to be off-limits. They never came and nobody talked long about them… Not longer than a reference, at least, like 'Dean has a brother'  
or 'how is your brother, Dean?' and Dean's answer would be a short 'he is fine, thanks for asking'. It pissed her off that this stranger, this MALFOY knew more about his cousin than her!

"Sting, what is it you are looking for?" She asked, tired of searching whatever it was they were looking for.

Cas was off trying to find the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Which didn't appeal to her in the least. 

She didn't know why he was doing it, some misguided sense of adventure probably, but between trying to find a place that, in theory, had caved in and spending time in the library, she was all for a good afternoon among her beloved books. 

The thing is that it was almost curfew on a Saturday evening and they had started this just after lunch. And Sting still hasn't told her why it was so important to find these healing spells.

"Advanced Healing Spells. I already told you that." Scorpius answered focused on the book he was reading and his patience too was wearing thin from the long afternoon. His eyes hurt and he felt like they had gotten nowhere at all. 

"Well, it is clear it isn't here, then. We looked everywhere!" She complained a bit, sounding a lot like her father.

Scorpius eyes grew, brighter as if hit by an epiphany.

"Of course, it is here. And we didn't look EVERYWHERE." 

He made a head movement to the Restricted Section with a smirk that would have made his father proud. And Rose just knew it spelled trouble. And she thought Cas was a handful!

That night they left their rooms hours after curfew so no one would see them. Sting and Cas under the most powerful notice-me-not spell Cas was capable of, and that was definitely a hell of notice-me-not spell. They picked Rose up on  
Gryffindor Tower and headed to the Library. The books there were old and dangerous. The enchanted version of Twenty Thousand Leages Undersea almost drowned Rose, but Sting seemed to have gotten what he needed. They went back to their rooms with a close call from professor Longbottom who was patrolling the halls at night.

The bold boys went back to their dungeons counting their spoils while the little lonely princess went back to her Tower to sleep alone and dream of tomorrow when she would see them again and maybe, just maybe, be a part of  
them. 

How was that for a life?

 

TBC…


	15. Chapter 15

Sting was furious… 

He was tired, his eyes hurt and still… The damned cat wouldn't move its hindy legs! The potion should be working by then but there was no change in the animal's condition. He threw the empty vial on his hand on the wall and let it smash itself into smithereens. He wanted to break more things in his frustration and the glass bowel with water appeared just then, out of nowhere as if it had been there all the time. He broke it on the floor and then there was the ceramic vase that appeared only to be smashed against the other far wall. He decided he indeed loved the Room of Requirement after that. Where else would he be provided with such a cathartic outlet to his rage? Better yet, where else would he find subjects to his experiments without hurting real mice and cats. He had never imagined the room to generate life… But it wasn't real life. The important thing was that it mimicked real life to perfection, probably tranfigured objects, that behaved like real animal and turned the results of his findings accurate. As fascinating as it was, it still meant that the potion didn't work. Not on cats, at least, not on such proportion. It had worked on the mice. Maybe he needed stronger doses. The important thing was that the damned potion worked. He had decided after his little tasntrum that he would think about it on the next day… He needed to sleep. It was 4h in the morning then and he would have Herbology at eight.

3 years of hard work, finally showing true results. He knew he was close. He still remembered that first afternoon of research with Rose at the Library. He still remembered his promise to help Bobby. He was so close. 

All left was to solve the dosage problem. He walked to a nice fluffy sofa that the room had provided for them. He wasn't there alone. Cas was sleeping there with a pair of earmuffs, dead to the world and to Scorpius' frustrations. He had his eyes closed and his features relaxed and angelic, all disheveled hair and pouty lips. No matter how long they kept locked up on the Room of Requirement or at the dungeons… The freckles on his nose just seemed to multiply themselves. As if Cas spent whole days in the sunlight. Sting loved it. Loved to count and map them. As if they were stars and Sting could trace constalations on Castiel's face. Cas emanated such warmth… As if the dark haired boy was a sun. Calling for Malfoy to find comfort under its light. He looked so comfortable lying there… And the sofa was so big… He couldn't help but to lay there too. His head was pounding and Cas instinctively, immediately, made room for him. As if this was his place in life, a perfect fit.

As his mind shut down, his last thought was that this… this was what he needed right now. More than anything the room could ever provide him with. This… This was home.

\-------------------------------------------

Dean wasn't much of dreamer. Never has been. The only times he had dreamed were when Cas (the Angel of the Lord, not his boy) wanted to talk or when he had his nightmares. They were rare now, but hell never faded from anyone's memory. It was burned there forever and sometimes he got a nightmare or two to remind him of that. Mostly it happened on the road. Far from Harry's arms.

That night, after cleaning up the bar, after having absolutely awesome sex with Harry, he dreamed. He dreamed of a sacrificial table, with drawings… Nothing he could recognize. They weren't sigils or a devil's trap but he knew they were just as old. There was blood too. Red as human blood. It ran through the inscriptions that were carved on the table. There was a body there too. Male. Young. Unmoving. Probably the source of the blood.

A pair of yellow eyes too close to his face.

Dean fell from the bed, his breath short, and panic in his eyes. No matter HE was dead. Those eyes still freaked him out.

Harry woke up with a start and saw his lover sitting on the floor, eyes wide as those of a house elf. He was breathing hard, covered in a cold sweat. Dean always looked good covered with sweat, but not with those eyes… Something had disturbed his dreams, Harry knew.

Dean was still there on the floor thinking about his dream when he heard feet and then knees on the floor and then he felt arms around his neck from behind, and kisses on his temple.

"It's ok. You are ok. You are home with me." Harry whispered in Dean's ear and he felt the blond's shoulders relax under his arms.

Dean was still shaken, though. "I dreamed." He said turning to look into Harry's eyes, reflecting moonlight. Two days to the full moon. "You know I don't usually dream."

"You didn't dream, my dear… You 'nightmared'." Harry said with patience. The only dreams Dean had were the worst kind and he knew. He was just the same. "Tell me what you saw."

"I saw blood. A boy dead on a sacrificial table. Something old. And… The Yellow Eyed Demon." Dean said and he was worried, dreaming… It was too unusual for him.

"He is dead, my dear. He can't touch you anymore." Harry said to calm his lover but with every intention of calling Hermione about Demon Hunting in the morning. That bastard had taken too much from Dean already. He would not touch him again.

"You're right, baby." Dean kissed Harry's lips for comfort, for familiarity, for something to think that didn't have yellow eyes and a wicked intention.

Harry was open to those warm lips. Dean tasted of fear and he wanted to erase every single trace of it. Because his Dean didn't fear anything. He shamelessly climbed on Dean's lap, straddling him, teasing him with his body. He run his hands over his lovers arms, his chest, up to his neck, he wanted his touch to calm and tease and awaken this familiar desire that burned anything and everything between them.

Dean's lips roamed Harry's face as if tasting every part of Harry made Dean sure that he was there, real, safe in his arms. That no Yellow Eyed Demon would take him away. At least, not when they were kissing like this. Not when the taste of Harry's body inflamed him, like a forest on fire. There was little separating them. Two pairs of boxers and a wife beater shirt that found their merry way to the floor.

Dean lifted Harry from the floor, the wizard snaked around his torso, laying him on the bed, waiting a moment to admire the beauty of the man he shared his life with. The man he wanted to protect. Literally the father to his children! Dean almost laughed at that thought but instead decided to lick Harry's lips, his jaw, his neck, his left nipple, his fingers, his flat belly, his navel… He knew it all by heart, the thought of that body made him hard. The taste of it, made him grab the bottle of lube on the nightstand and coat his fingers quickly.

Harry's breath caught in anticipation as he watched Dean's hands with the lube, he parted his legs wide, his pupils blow with want.

The first finger in and he moaned loudly. Dean was a real wizard with his fingers, one, two, three fingers and he screamed.

"Fuck!" Dean had hit his prostate. He tried to catch his breath. "I want you…" He begged, he wasn't that much in the mood for foreplay. And Dean wasn't much in the mood for waiting so he complied. He took off his fingers, aimed and drove home.

"Fuck, you're too good! For the love of Merlin!" Harry cursed, loving every second as Dean started pounding. He loved the rhythm, he loved feeling full, and he met Dean's thrusts with his hips, it was perfect. It was their moment, their universe, their home.

And if any demon bastard thought he could try to ruin it, they were sadly mistaken. He didn't hold any thoughts any longer after that. He couldn't. The pleasure was too much.

He mumbled something incoherent and came over Dean's hand. As his body clenched around him, Dean also came, filling him with warmth.

Dean fell over him and they breathed together for Harry didn't know how long. Dean's weight familiar and perfect, the softening cock on him also a lovely sensation complete with a bit of burning.

Dean then lifted and got out of his lover. He lay on his side and brought Harry to spoon against him. He wanted to hold on to him. Make sure he would be there in the morning. That he was home.

"I love you." Dean said.

"Me too, dear, me too."

TBC…


	16. Of Nightmares and Unusual Cases

It is known that the Hogwarts' Founders history was a blur. It was like they vanished after the fight between Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin. Few people knew of the Grey Lady and the love the Bloody Baron had for her.

Few knew the truth of the Founders or their lineage. Few knew that the fight between Serpent and Lion was far more personal than the "Teaching or not of Half-Bloods and Muggleborns" matter.

Slytherin believed in keeping the blood pure for a whole other reason.

When you keep the magical blood pure its power is increased. But not in the way that the magical folk it generated were more powerful. After all, the lack of new genes ended up bringing too many squibs to life and increased the madness in a few bloodlines (The Black Line, for example). The truth was… When you sacrificed a pureblood, the power that could be gathered with the right ritual was huge, much greater than what you could get sacrificing a half blood or a muggle born. Slytherin knew that. Slytherin knew that if he forbade the mixing of blood at a young age he would have many subjects to his experments. Dragon Blood has a lot uses as Dumbledore knew… Wizard Blood had its own too.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

That day started as any other for Dean.

He was in Belleville, Wisconsin, tracking down what had to be witches. The count so far were 4 bodies. All of them young. Between 12 and 18 years old. All of them had family. Three girls and a boy. Dean didn't see the connection as he examined the bodies. A blond fourteen-year-old girl with a small body. A twelve-year-old girl with long dark hair. A redhead with long legs that screamed jailbait, according to the file, she would be seventeen in a week, and a boy of 18 with a dorky haircut. They had all been murdered with a sharp knife to the heart and had been drained of their blood through a cut at the throat. Dean felt the smell of sulfur immediately in the crime scene. Bloody witches were conjuring demons as it seemed, not only serving them. And to do it he knew they needed to be a coven, as he found a few symbols on the walls… The demons they were messing with? Old, powerful and dangerous stuff.

Dean, them, had been to interview the families of the victims.

The first house was old and weird. Bigger than it seemed on the outside. The family had terrible taste in clothes, looked worse than that Motel room that looked like it had been decorated in the seventies. Those were dark ages… There was something familiar about them, though, Dean just couldn't grasp what. And they were very nervous as he asked his questions…As if they were hiding something. He couldn't look at the victims room.

The second house… Had a big garden… With some... familiar plants. He thought they had some of them in their own vegetable garden on the roof of the bar back in Boston. Something told him it was obvious that he was missing, something crucial to this case, he just couldn't pinpoint what.

On the third house, while he was talking to nervous and sad parents, the older boy, was climbing the stairs to show him his baby sister's room when he fell on the last step. A wooden stick fell from the kid's jacket pocket. A wooden stick Dean knew quite well for he had seen a lot of sticks like those… On the Weasley's house.

"Sam, 4 kids murdered so far. All from Wizard Families. Fuck, I think I hate witches even more than before." Dean said on his phone to his brother who was in Minneapolis with Jane and Johnny. He was sitting in his single room in the flea-bitten motel he had found himself by the road.

"Have you told Harry, yet?" Sam asked, serious, knowing the answer already. His brother was such a pussy when it came to bringing Harry into this kind of problem.

"No." Dean answered, also serious. "I want him safe and out of this."

"You know you are being a selfish prick. He has to wait for you as you risk yourself and you can't stand the idea that he does the same?" Sam asked. He knew he was as much of a selfish prick as his brother when it cam to Jane, but he wouldn't tell him that. His role in this phone call was another, he had to be Dean's talking cricket.

"Sam, he is out of this kinda game. I never left. You know there is a difference. He is a father now."

"Another reason to tell him. You said it yourself… Magical kids between 12 to 18… They were just kids, just like Cas and Sting. They could be in danger." Sam was worried and when it came to Wizard's, traveling was too far too fast. There wasn't a way to make sure it was just in the US. They could be killing people anywhere in the world.

"They are on the other side of the ocean, Sam, in a fully guarded magical school." Dean tried to argue.

"The same one that made such a great job keeping Harry from Voldemort." Sam said and he knew his brother was cursing under his breath because he hated when Sam was right.

"Sam, they are safe and so is Harry and that's why he is out of this. Ok?" The older hunter said in that tone that said 'it's-the-end-of-discussion-and-it-doesn't-matter-you-are-right.'

"Dean, those kids? They are his people." Sam said, trying to put a bit of sense into his brother's head.

"He already died for them twice. I won't let him even think about a third."

 

TBC…


	17. Chapter 17

Sting was in for another of his long nights, as it seemed. Cas could tell by the way he loosened his tie, opened the top buttons of his shirt and rolled up its sleeves. Sting wasn't a "hands on" person on anything but this research of his. They were doing it for 3 years already and still nothing. At least according to Sting. Cas didn't know what it was about, really. Sting said that he'd rather leave him in the dark than build up empty hope. Cas knew Sting was a freaking drama queen but if it wasn't important he would have given up already. So he found his sit on the big couch the Room of Requirement had so kindly provided and took out his PSP. It was a shame they didn't have wi-fi in Hogwarts… Not even the Room of Requirement could get him that… So it was him and his Final Fantasy VII. He had finished it already, but he never tired of fighting Sephiroth. He thanked again the day Uncle Sam had suggested the PSP for Dean as a birthday gift. He also thanked his father's thoughtfulness for protecting it against Hogwarts anti-technology spells. If it weren't for them he would be, again, bored out of his mind. But he knew he would never let Sting alone. Even in boredom. It was nice to watch him work but it wasn't the best course of action. It would be revealing too much about his endless crush on his best friend. Sting would ignore everything outside of his work and he looked so… free when he did that. The normally proper and well dressed youth with perfect hair would turn into a ragged being driven by caffeine and will only. His mind purely on his notes and experiences. Cas had lost count on how many times he had already raided the restricted section for Sting. Every time he needed a book that was out of reach there would be a plan and a well rehearsed dance between them and the professors. He had gotten the Marauder's Map from his dad and all the ways not to get caught from Dean and Uncle George. Uncle George knew everything there was to know about Hogwarts and Dean… Well, Dean had fooled more cops, teachers, demons and angels than he could count (thinking about it, it was even a bit scary, Dean was a criminal in too many levels to think about but still… It was usefull).

"Give me your hand." Sting demanded about 3 hours into his studies.

"What for? I'm in the middle of a battle!" Cas complained.

"Cas, now. You've already finished this game at least 3 times, and I know, don't try to deny it, I already recognize the background sound." Sting said firmly.

Cas paused the game and extended his left hand. Sting put a small squared glass piece close to Castiel's finger and pierced it with a needle.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"Merlin, are you whiny today… I need human blood different from my own. See, it's already over." He said chastising and at the same time placating his friend.

"You could have given me warning." Castiel said and lifted his finger to his mouth sucking on it.

Sting smirked and Cas felt his heart flutter.

"You would have complained even more." He said going back to his work.

Cas never tired of watching Sting. He was pale and blond… He looked veela sometimes. But what Cas loved the most were his silver eyes. They would get hard and concentrated in work, or steely and angry as a storm when something didn't go as he expected. He most liked them, though, when they melted into mercury… Lovely when they would walk by the lake and laugh at something or the other. Sting was the best company, the best friend he had ever had. And also… So freaking hot.

Yeah… He was spending too long in Dean's company.

Last year, Dean had gotten him unsupervised porn. Dad would kill both of them if he knew, but even so he had gotten a taste of the forbidden and it was awesome to jerk off to that. But it was Asian Busty Beauties and though it was nice Cas was a very curious boy. So, he had gotten Ted to get him gay porn. What, if you come to think of it, is normal since he has gay parents… It was nice too, and he got nice bathroom hours with his G Magazine.

Even so… Nothing in the world got under his skin as seeing Sting that way. So natural, so him. No masks of society, no propriety to maintain. Just Sting, crazy after his answers.

Sometimes he dreamed of it. Of touching him, all that pale soft skin. But he knew he shouldn't think about it there or the room would provide a bed that would be hard to explain to his best friend.

He came back to his game, but wished he could do something else… Like sitting Sting on the counter top and kiss him silly. He really should pay more attention to Sephiroth right now. Or he would have a hard on, which is even worse than the bed in matters of explanations.

TBC…


	18. Chapter 18

The smell of human blood was pungent. He knows it as he knows his own name. He walked into the big stone hall as if he had already been there. It looked like a sewer or something underground.

The smell was strong and filled his nostrils with the odor of death. There was a lot of blood on the floor. A whole bunch of symbols he didn't recognize, all painted in blood. One big reversed pentacle was drawn on the floor and there were five bodies on each of the points of the drawing. Demon magic. He looked at the five bodies and saw they were just kids, fragile and young. They had a whole life to live. Gone.

He recognized the stone table in the middle of the room. There were inscriptions on it, signs and sigils he didn't know also tinted in red. There was another kid's body on top of it too. But before he could pay attention to the cut that opened the boy's chest and made his intestines fall off his body the eyes opened and the corpse sat on the sacrificial table, not caring much about its own guts falling around. His eyes were yellow and the whisper of malice in his ear said:

"He is mine, Winchester."

Dean couldn't make out the voice, but the evil animating it was a known one:

Azazel.

Dean woke up, once more soaked in his own sweat.

Since he left for the hunt the dreams got more intense. Harry always made him calm and without him there on the road, it was unlikely that he would have a good night of sleep. What worried him was that he was dreaming over and over of this ritual. Blood sacrifice of 6 kids. And somehow Yellow Eyes was involved.

The fifth body was found in the sewer. Dean hated the sewer. Why? It smelled like sewer.

It was another boy, fourteen, with dark brown hair. He was the exact same age as Cas and Dean felt his heart constrict in fear. A long known fear… Fear for his son. The first time he had ever felt it, Cas had been only a mute little boy… He searched the whole place and the only thing there was the actual body. Whatever killed him, dragged him to sewer in an attempt to hide the body. It was decomposing already.

The victim was on the floor, his throat cut open. There was no pool of blood on the floor though, only the ants, rats and maggots eating the boy's body. Like there wasn't any blood left, Dean noticed. After, he read in the coroner's report that the blood had indeed been drained and that this boy was the first to die chronologically. He was dead a good ten days before he was found. The sewer had cloaked the smell. Dean didn't feel any more comfortable knowing that there was no blood to be bled. There were no marks, so… No vampires. If it was vampires at least he would know what he was up against.

"Julius was such a good boy." Julius' (the dead kid's) mother said as she cried when he decided to show up for questioning after the whole thing with the body.

"Poor soul died a virgin too. Didn't even get to know the non-magi girls, he was so dying to meet now that it was all permitted." The boy's brother said just to be glared by his father. Dean looked at the boy and thanked God, for making older brothers assholes.

"So you are Wizards?" Dean asked, straight forward. "I work for the force but married a witch." He told the family and showed his ring. It wasn't a commitment ring really but he changed fingers when he went on missions like this to look like a respectable agent. Worked like a charm. It even made him think about getting a real one. For him and Harry with their names inside. He knows it's tacky but somehow he feels his mom would have liked that. The father of the family looked at him with a kind of snobbish disdain he recognized well from that party he attended with Harry at the Brittish Magical Ministry years ago. It meant one thing: Purebloods.

"They are doing everything these days." Complained the old man, Publius, but the rebellious son cut in.

"We are purebloods, Mr. Neil. And mom and dad here just can't face the music that now everyone can marry anyone, as long as they have a paying job for expenses, especially now, that we, such a respectful family, are broke and they can't coerce Julius to marry into an old pureblood rich British family." The boy was like 17 and sounded very bitter for someone that young, he reminded Dean of a teenaged specially bitchy Sam. But it was good. He was getting the info he came for, after all. And it even gave him an idea.

"Valerius!" Reprimanded the mother, Cassiopeia.

"Don't worry, ma'm. Nothing of personal aspect will be included in my report. We just want to find this killer. I personally think it is coming after pureblood kids. So, kid, I would be careful, if I were you." Dean told the family and aimed his warning to Valerius, who snorted as only a rebellious teenager would and Dean once more couldn't help but think about Sam at that age.

He decided after leaving the family that he needed to do some heavy research on the other kids' background. Even involve Sam and Bobby. This was getting more complicated than he had first expected. It was a long time since he had such a pain in the ass case and he missed Harry. Fuck.

With a lot of research for Wizards were no fools when it came to hiding secrets, the pattern came clear to Dean's eyes. The murdered kids were all pureblood wizard virgins and for him, since he had been having these awful nightmares, it was very likely that their blood would be used for some kind of dark ritual. He needed more info into Wizard dark magic… The only problem was: his only specialist available in Defense Against the Dark Arts was named Harry Potter.

"Harry, I need to talk to you." Dean said over the phone, dreading having to involve Harry, at all. Dean never had peace when he knew Harry was hunting. He could never forget the lifeless green eyes he stared at as Harry lay dead on the floor of the bar that fateful night so long ago when Seamus Fucking Finnegan had hit him with the killing curse. Sometimes he even mopped the spot where Harry's body had laid 3 or 4 times extra to clean that odor of death that was more a psychosomatic reaction than a real smell. Just his mind playing tricks on him, but he would never forget the crushing feeling he had felt then.

"Bloody hell, Dean, what happened this time? When you talk like this it can't be good. Are you hurt? Tell me where you are so I can apparate there." Harry asked frantic at Dean's tone, and Dean felt the pressure in his heart at the memory lift as he heard his baby's voice.

"Wait… Baby, I'm fine I just… Need some… info." He said, timid. He hated asking for Harry's help. He could call Hermione but she would just tell Harry anyway and it would only be worse to hear it after.

"Help? You are asking for my help? On a hunt?" Harry asked and Dean could hear the raised an eyebrow in his tone. There was a laugh and Harry asked in a mocking tone. "Are you feverish?"

"No, I'm not! It's just… I think someone is planning dark magic, and it's your kind of magic." Dean said cutting through the chase, he was never a man for that kind of game after all.

"Oh." Harry stopped, and by Dean's tone e knew how worried Dean was about it. "Ok." Harry said changing completely his own tone. "What are the leads?" He asked. It was Head of Aurors Potter talking now, not Harry, not Mac.

"They are taking blood and guts of magical kids. Purebloods, all of them virgins."

"Oh. It's a good think the boys are in Hogwarts, huh?" Harry answered and it was Harry who was back, not the Auror. His kids always came first.

"Yeah."

"I'll call Hermione." Continued Harry, back to business. "She has access to all secret and prohibited books in the Ministry. I'll see if she can grant me access. Since I'll be there, anyway." He commented, matter-of-factly.

"You are going to England?" Dean asked and he felt a lurch in his guts. He could also remember the last time HE went to England and how "nice" his trip had had turned out.

"Yes, I was just going to call you. Minerva sent an owl today. It says it is of utmost importance, or something of the like." Harry laughed a bit of Minerva's choice of words.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

TBC…


	19. Chapter 19

NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM

 

He couldn't remember how it all started. 

It happened too fast.

One day he had to deal with their diciplinary problems and with them lurking around the Castle after curfew... And then, suddenly, his problem was: to tell their parents they were gone. 

He didn't have a remote clue to what was happening and who may have taken them or even if they didn't just run away. The thing was that he found himself stuck with having to tell their parents their children have been missing for two days. He started to think a lot of his grandmother at that time. She would have known how to break the news. After all, Augusta Longbottom not only was for many years Lady Longbottom and an important political player, but also she had been the one to tell Neville about his parents' sickness back when he was boy, she would have known how to deal with angry distressed parents. In theory, Professor Montrose, Head of Slytherin, should have been the one doing the telling with McGonagall since both boys were Slytherins, but the Headmistress was right when she said it could be dangerous to him. Montrose wasn't a war hero, and worse he never had any contact with these parents particularly. Neville knew it had been crucial, to have had known them beforehand and have been regarded as a friend. Neville shook his head negatively as he thought about it all. Montrose thought he had been protected from the widely known wrath of Baron Malfoy. Malfoy, Neville could have laughed at the thought. Draco may have rebuilt his fortune as an attorney and have become a well respected member of the New Wizarding Society. But his anger was nothing compared to Harry's. Harry had been away from the Wizard World for so many years that Castiel and Ted were celebrities just because they were his heirs. Harry was regarded as some kind of legend, a hermit. And no one knew how protective and paranoid about his children Harry Potter really was. Neville knew. He had dined in Mac's Bar just the week before the whole mess. And he had known things would get pretty ugly. He had taken a deep breath to center himself and prepare. 

And he hadn't even considered his Winchester problem then. Things would definitely get pretty ugly.

How did you tell Harry Potter and Dean Winchester their son was missing? Better yet, how did you do that and live to tell the tale? Good thing he hand't done it alone, at least Minerva had been just as suicidal as he had.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

HARRY

"Missing?" Harry had asked, his face ashen instantaneously. 

Incredulous. 

As if all air had been knocked out of his lungs. He remembered that feeling well. Last time he had felt like that Cas had just ran away to America with Ted to go after Dean, but… Right then there hadn't been a killer of young wizards at large! If he hadn't been used to stressful situations he could have panicked. He could have been in shock with no reaction at all. But all he could think was: 'What the fuck was I thinking when I had left my kid there?' and that voice sounded a lot like the Dean Winchester in his mind that was a hell of a lot more paranoid than he was. All those lectures Dean used to give him about trusting no one but family and to bring them to study closer to home replaying in his mind, and his answer too as he had told Dean, "No... They shouldn't worry. Voldemort was dead, Hogwarts was a safe place." Yes, he definitely should have listened to his lover's distrust of all things magic. At least, Cas and Sting would have been safe.

Harry Potter looked up at McGonagall's apologetic gaze with a coldness on his own eyes that had made her shiver. He could forgive them for failing him, again and again, but failing Cas? That was another story. The look he sent Neville who was just beside the headmistress was one of betrayal. How could he let his son be taken? The hurt Harry was felling written all over it.

By his side, Malfoy raged and screamed like a child throwing a tantrum. Harry just looked at him pointedly and he was magically rendered silent. Harry grabbed his phone and without words he magicked it to work in Hogwarts just to prove he could. He called Dean, the only voice that could control his anger now, the only voice that could stop him from hurting anyone in that room for their sheer incompetence. 

"Dean, someone took Cas and Sting."

\------------------------------

DEAN

The dream Dean had had just a few moments before Harry's call had been just the same as the others before it. The blood drawing of the pentacle, the five murdered kids. This time though it had felt so much more real.

He could even see the features on the dead bodies and his blood ran cold as he recognized Sting's body mangled on the floor as if he was just something forgotten there.

The body on the sacrificial table had been pale too. The blood flowing out of the huge cut just like the intestines. As he paid attention to the young features, the features that would open yellow eyes to him… That was the moment said eyes opened on Castiel Potter's young face. And the voice of his son whispered with a very familiar kind of malice.

"Hello, Dean. He is mine."

Just before he woke up.

As he tried to control his breathing, his heart sounding like a horse racing across his breast, as he tried not to think about Sammy possessed by Meg, and his father torturing them with yellow freaking eyes that looked just like Cas' in his dream, his phone rang and the boys were missing.

Dean called his brother and soon Sam hugged Johnny and said goodbye kissing the top of his head, saying he would be back soon.

He kissed Jane as well, and also promised he would be back soon, and that he would bring those boys back. Jane kissed him too and told him, that they were family even if not by blood and that Winchesters took care of their own. Sam grabbed his duffels heading for a dumpster nearby where he could get the next portkey to England.

\----------------------

TED

The moment he registered what his dad was saying, Ted felt in the deep of his core something that had awakened. His most primal side. His devotion and loyalty, his sense of family, his sense of PACK. His pack was in danger and the wolf in him, the same one he fought everyday to keep in check, all that anger that made him crazy every full moon, howled inside his mind demanding safety for those in his care, demanding retribution from those who dared to take his younglings. He had to keep the wolfish whine in his throat as climbed the elevator to the streets of London.

He arrived at Hogwarts close to dusk.

 

TBC…


	20. Chapter 20

TED

Ted closed his eyes and smelled the air. The scents were maddening, like some kind of drug. 

It overwhelmed all sense of self and took over. He could smell the house elves in the kitchens cooking a baquet. He could smell the forest and the unicorns, the centaurs. He could smell Hagrid's cooking too and it almost made him ill. He could smell the castle. It smelled of old moldy stones and ink and parchment and dust and smelly children. Cas and Sting smelled like that, so he concentrated on that smell, but he searched for a more peculiar scent, something that was uniquely them. It was not blood, it wasn't their position nor their beliefs. It was their own chemistry that no other human could duplicate.

He had never let the Wolf so free before. Especially not that close to the full moon, he had only one day before it. He could hear his veins pumping his blood in his ears, and could feel the dirt under his feet as if it was calling him for a run. His own hands felt itchy as if they envied his feet as if they too wanted the dirt, because four in the dirt made him faster, because running in the moonlight is what he was made to do.

When he opened his eyes he was in crouch close to the floor, he looked at his father and his eyes were amber and his hair was grey and white like a wolf's fur. His nails were longer too, looking sharp like claws, as his teeth looked like fangs, but that was just his metamorphmagus DNA trying to follow his instincts and not a real werewolf transformation. He had still one night to go before the moon. One day before he was totally useless, so he might as well make the best of it, he thought to himself. He closed his eyes again and since he was closer to the ground he quickly picked it up. The scent was old, two to three days. He didn't know how he knew it but his instincts told him so. It was natural for him when he howled loud and clear and inhuman. He didn't know it sent a shiver of fear down Dean's spine. His father's lover loved him like a son, but he would never relax totally in face of a werewolf, even if it was just a half-breed. He followed the trail through the forest and all creatures fleed from him. They knew he was hunting but they didn't know he was hunting for his brother and not food. He came across a trinket and Sting's smell was all over it. It was a pocket watch from the Malfoy heritage. It had a big M on the lid and he had seen it among the boy's things before. He followed the smell 'till he hit the wall, the limit that closed Hogwarts from the outside world. There was a door there, not one he could see, but he felt it there. It looked like a wall but for some reason he knew he could go through. He just followed the smell and walked into the wall.

As he did so, he realized that what he had just done was an extremely dumb thing to do.

He blamed it on his Wolf as he felt a hard hit in the back of his head and his lights go out, consciousness leaving him.

 

\---------------------------

HARRY

Harry was tired. 

Harry was angry. 

Harry could decimate a small country if he let his fury reign over him.

Bugger!

That was the only word that came to mind. He had lost two sons and a friend in the short period of 3 days. It should be a new record! How could he lose control of a situation like that! Bugger!

"Harry, are you ok?" Asked Sam sitting beside Harry on the steps of Hogwarts' entrance. Sam was worried about his friend. Harry seemed like a pressure pan ready to blow up at any minute. Maybe a nuclear warhead was more accurate description. Even a muggle like himself could feel the air around Harry crackling with energy.

"Well… I lost two sons in 24 hours. I'm swell." Harry answered sarcastically his eyes still trained in the forest where they had lost Ted a few hours ago.

"Dean is calling for back up. Cas will know where the kids are." Sam tried to sooth his kind of brother-in-law putting a hand on his back.

"Between you and me, that guy pisses me off." Harry stopped and looked right at his Dean talking to that blue-eyed abomination.

"Why? I know he is a little weird and all, but… He never let us down before." Sam asked simply and that trust with which he spoke of Castiel was the last straw for Harry.

"Don't you think that I know that? I read the bloody gospels!" Harry blew in Sam's face. He was really REALLY angry. And fuck, Sam had tried so hard to avoid that.

"Harry…" Sam tried to calm the older man down afraid of the physical consequences that could be a result of angry Harry, like something really exploding.

"No, Sam. What pisses me off is the way that bloody angel looks at him. The way Dean trusts that thing more than he trusts me. I still remember when he left. You think I would forget? You know who he left watching me to make sure I wouldn't hurt my own son? Yes, bloody Castiel. He even named my son after him. And worst of all, my kids are gone and the only one that we can turn to for help is the winged bastard." He ranted. The good thing was that at least nothing was destroyed, not physically, at least.

"Harry…" Sam sad softly, totally understanding what it felt like to swallow your pride and ask for help from someone you really hated. He still remembered when he had asked for Ruby's help for the first time after his brother had died.

"Fuck, I need my kids back, man." Harry said as he let his head fall on his hands. He was on the brink of tears but he didn't want to brake like that in front of Sam. At that moment, oblivious to the whole debate about him and Castiel, Dean came closer to the pair seated on the stairs and his heart clenched at the sight of Harry so distraught.

"Baby" He whispered trying to catch the man's attention. "We're gonna find them. I promise you. And that is a Winchester promise. I won't rest 'till I do, ok?" It was soft and calming, and Harry just wanted to hug him, to let his man sooth him, to make sure he too wasn't going to disappear suddenly, but it wasn't the place and they had work to do.

He glared at Castiel as he came close, saying with a glace that Dean was his. Dean once told him he thought that Cas could read minds.

Well, read this, bugger. Dean Winchester is MINE!

TBC…


	21. Arithmantic Numbers of Dark Omens

Scorpius Malfoy had never been afraid in his life as he had been in that moment. He had always known that standing by Cas would bring him trouble. And it always had. But that was a new kind of trouble. It wasn't bullies, nor cultural differences, nor crazy parents, nor angry teachers. That was a very true dungeon in which he had sit, manacled to the wall, in chains. He barely could feel his fingers, he had been tied up for so long…

Merlin, he really hated dungeons. Cold, humid and miserable. So inadequate to the times they were living. Why couldn't bloody wizards go up and let go of such ridiculous customs. If they had, he wouldn't be reminded that his father had a dungeon so similar to that one. He wouldn't remember the witch chair he kept there and all the other torture objects. His mother used to joke when he was a child telling him it was to use on him when he was naughty. Sometimes he hated his mother. Well, he hated his father more so… All those memories only made him more creative when imagining what could be done to him in that place.

Weaker men would have repented of their choice to make friends with Harry Potter's son so long ago… When things were still uncomplicated.

But Scorpius would never, ever repent of his friendship with Cas.

He looked at Cas, then, leaning on the wall opposite to him. He was knocked out cold with a big purple bruise on his cheek; there was blood on the corner of his mouth too. He was chained to the wall much like Scorpius himself but around him there was this circle with runes he had never seen… And, it was an unusual happening since he was such an enthusiast about ancient runes… There were arithmantic calculi involved too and they were on the verge of insane. Like most of those numbers were only legends, old professors and ancient books talked about them as a passing memory of things long gone, forgotten and disused. The excessive use of the number six was a bit scary. Six was never a good number in arithmancy, especially when it was followed by a pair of other sixes. If that wasn't enough warning for him to keep his distance from that drawing the smell should have done it… More than the color, and the fact it was full of insects over it. It was putrid. It was biological. It was old blood. He had worked enough with blood to know old blood. And blood magic was NEVER a good sign.

He was afraid and worried about his friend and his life and there was this relentless sounds coming from outside the heavy wood and iron door. As if just outside, there was this chained up beast fighting its chains, howling for freedom so it could have them both for lunch. His stomach grumbled at that thought of food and he didn't know how long it was since he had had anything to eat.

Cas… Even though he worried about it all he worried so much more about Cas. He didn't want to die without telling him how important he was to him. He didn't want his friend to think he hadn't seen his lustful looks, or his loving gazes. And most important, how they were mutual feelings.

Cas, like Dean, wore his heart on his sleeve. And, come on, Scorpius was known as the brains of their little duo while Cas brought the heart, soul, muscle and magic. He loved his best friend, he knew that quite well. It would be silly to deny it. Cas had been his family, his best friend, the light in his darkness, the first human being to ever treat him as an equal instead of Lord Malfoy's son. He just hadn't thought of how to best approach that conversation. Bollocks, if he was to die he should at least be honest with himself. The truth was that he wasn't ready yet… He was afraid of loving Cas so much that he would die and burst with love. What if his friend tired of him, or gave up their 'thing'? He wasn't sure he could take it and that would ruin their friendship and Scorpius didn't had any other friends. Well, he wouldn't have to worry about that no longer… He alone couldn't free them and the beast outside sounded pretty hungry.

He just wished Cas would wake up for a moment to hear what he had to say. At least he would die honest. In that moment, his only thought was of Cas. Maybe he could escape, he wished and prayed any deities that would hear to save Castiel.

His beautiful loving Castiel.

\---------------------------------------

Castiel started waking up and felt the cold floor under him.

He woke up and felt the chains around his neck, around his writs. He woke up to the smell of urine, blood and crap around the cold humid place. Nothing new.

He wanted to believe it was just a fucking dream. He wanted to tell himself he had a father and Dean and a brother and a best friend. That he went to school and talked to people. That he was loved. Before he even knew, he felt the warm liquid overflow his eyelids down his face. His brain was still too wired up to that life. It had been 9 years since he was free and loved and had a family, but hell if you could forget 5 years of conditioning, of being told you were nothing but a mindless beast. A useless thing for hurting… Just for the fun of hearing it scream. Not even a lifetime of bliss could erase that place from Castiel's memory, so all it took to send him back to that place was the weight of the chains. In seconds he was that stupid small beast with no voice but for screaming, with no hands but those for revenge and violence.

A guttural sound of hate broke from his throat, a beastly sound. And with no other way but being what his memory told him to be, he cried in silence feeling inhuman and worthless, angry with himself for dreaming of freedom. He wrapped himself around himself for he had only his arms against the cold. All that happiness could only be a dream, after all. No one could love a little weak beast like him. Something that should be eradicated and tortured. Something that should be hated. Hated by the man. The man that beat him up, the man that hated him, that laughed at his suffering. The man in glasses that looked like his father, the father he loved so.

And knowing that only made him cry harder.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

Sting grew even more desperate than he had been before Cas woke up.

His best friend was growling… And crying… Like a child. He had never seen his friend cry like that. He had never seen Cas as frail as he seemed at that moment and Sting couldn't even go to him. Hold him. Tell him it would be ok, even if he himself didn't believe it would. Tell him, he was loved. Cas had never needed him as he needed in that moment and there were chains holding him up. He wasn't an unreasonable man, but his very soul called to him to fight the chains and fight he did. He felt so useless against them but he couldn't take a crying Cas and do nothing. He tried to talk to him, he screamed, he begged Cas to listen to him… But his friend wasn't there… He was lost, somewhere in his dark past Sting had no part of.

Any hope Scorpius still had was… Gone. And his despair was clear even to his own ears.

"Once again, Merlin, God, whoever is listening, please. Save us." His voice broke as he pronounced out loud. "Please." He begged, as the tears he no longer could hold stained his cheeks.

TBC…


	22. Chapter 22

The voice was young and desperate in its plea. In Castiel's Angel Frequency, it sounded crystal clear. It was the Faith of the Hopeless he had heard in that voice, normally found in those who really needed a Miracle. It was a rare kind of Faith. Most only got to that on their time of dying. He, for a moment, regretted all the times he couldn't interfere, all the times he had to ignore prayers like that. No more of that. The Winchesters should find their peace, and peace was Harry Potter, Ted Lupin, Castiel Potter, Jane Winchester, Johnny Winchester and Bobby Singer safe. Castiel, the Angel of the Lord, would see to that.

He took them, one at a time, to the source of the prayer. Dean, Sam… When it came to Harry Potter, the Wizard glared at him and Castiel could have laughed, if he was the kind of person who found easy humor in other people's foolishness. It was kind of ridiculous to think that the Master Over Death was so… jealous and insecure, so human. Yes, even though Harry hadn't told anyone, even Dean was still unaware of that, Castiel felt and saw the mark that stood out to anything supernatural. It meant: don't mess with him he bears Death's mark. It made him think of Cain sometimes. Cain bore the mark of God, walking to the end of days with his curse without being able to die and that turned him into a Knight of Hell. Castiel mused if Death's mark would function the same way with Potter.

He hoped not.

Cain was one of the bitterest of creatures he had ever had the displeasure of meeting.

________________________________________

When the sound of the heavy door to the dungeon being opened resonated in the silence, Castiel, the boy, tensed. 

He heard heavy boots. 

The Man who hated him was lighter, his footsteps making less sound, but that was probably a goon. He bid his time faking sleep. He waited until the chains fell from his wrists and ankles and lunged blindly.

The big man fell; he didn't expect the boy to be out of the stunning spell yet. Cas ran for the door and looked back for a moment. He didn't even know why he did it, it was as if something in the back of his mind whispered, aren’t you forgetting something? His eyes crossed with stormy gray ones that were scared and desperate.

Sting.

The word came to his lips as the memories came to his mind, as those of a dream. He had told himself it had never happened but no matter. Truth or dream, he wouldn't let anyone endure what he went through. He couldn't leave the boy there even if he wasn’t his Sting. He went back to help him. 

All doubt he had was gone the moment the boy screamed at him.

"Go, Cas! It's your only chance! Go!"

He wanted Cas to go and leave him behind. Alone in a dungeon with whoever got them there. Cas' mind came back to the present, his love for Sting greater than his instincts, greater than his pain of his past. He ran to Sting, to help him, to touch him and make sure he was real.

"Man, I'm so sorry." He said and tried his magic against the chains. 

They fell to the floor but the big man used this opening and got him with a stunning spell. Cas fell once more and Sting caught him just before he hit the ground. He wasn't athletic, but he didn't care, in his despair he dragged the other boy with the little strength he had and tried to run for the door even if they chanced to meet the beast outside.

Sting didn't know how… But all the spells of the big man seemed off target and he couldn't quite understand how someone could miss in such a close range, especially with him moving so slowly but he thanked whoever had listened to his prayers.

After he passed the door, he heard it move and close. He heard the key that was still in the lock turn on itself, locking the big man inside. He turned immediately to face whoever had helped, be it friend or foul.

"Well, well, well… If it isn't the most perfect specimen I have encountered in what? Centuries?" Asked a tall man, too thin to be healthy, with long silky silvery white hair. 

It almost shone in the dark hallway. Sting looked around but the man was alone and he looked kind of sickly, being so pale and so thin. But the question didn't sound rhetorical, he kept looking at Sting but the question didn’t sound aimed at him. Sting considered the man's sanity, for a moment, holding Cas tighter to himself.

"It doesn't amaze me in the least that the wizarding help we gathered was dumb enough to let a pair of children escape. That's the whole point of this experiment after all. Next time you bring your demons. Not that they are that much better." The thin man kept on talking to someone that was certainly not Sting but also something that didn’t look visible. The boy wanted to laugh of the mention of demons. Even if Dean hunted them and Cas' whole family believed in them, he still wasn't convinced. Sting looked at the man as if he was bonkers, but this time… The temperature around him dropped dramatically and he could feel malice in the air around them… Ill meaning that clutched to his very bones. As if a cold fog, a ghost maybe had descended upon them. Circling them, involving them in a shroud of cold. There was… SOMETHING there with them.

Something EVIL.

 

TBC…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are!!! Almost at the END!!! In this chapter we presented a bit of our new Villain! Tell me what you think of him!


	23. Chapter 23

Sting was afraid and Cas was still out.

There was this crazy man, the cold fog… And he couldn't forget the creature that had been howling all through the exchange. The same one he thought was going to eat them moments before. The sounds were coming from the cell that was exactly to his right. Too close for his liking. The door was iron and heavy wood and it barely contained whatever it was that had smelled them.

Whatever it was though… It couldn't be as bad as the fog… Its tendrils caressed his skin with malice and ill intend. And it even tried to pry Cas from him. He held on even tighter.

"So, so eager… So hungry!" Continued the thin man, with a smile on his face that could only be described as that of a maniac. "You can't wait, can you? To taste him? To be back? I'm sure! Let's get ready. I have to admit this will be an experience of a lifetime!" He laughed loudly and Sting could only tremble. The fog was still there and it was so… EVIL he couldn't even move.

The thin man laughed some more at him. And before he knew, he felt like suffocating and he too was out cold on the floor at the man's and the fog's mercy.

* * *

Dean looked at the warehouse. It wasn't quite a warehouse it was more of sewer treatment plant too old to be used anymore. A ghost building in an abandoned industrial area. He had seen too many of these. He didn't know where they were, but he had a good bet it could be Detroit.

Sewer… He hated the fact that it was so close to his dream. A shiver run down his spine just thinking about it all being Azazel's doing. His boys… on Azazel's hands.

But Azazel was dead. He focused on this simple fact to keep focus even if a small treacherous voice told him that people didn't tend to stay dead in his world. Not that it was a always a bad thing. He, Sammy and Harry being back hadn't been so bad…

They entered in silence, in darkness, they couldn't blow it. The boys were there somewhere. Sammy went left to check ground floor, Harry went upstairs and he… He went down to the sewers. Cas stayed on the look out. The place was totally angel proof. He had done his best bringing them there.

* * *

Sting woke again feeling helpless.

He was tied by both feet to a chained hook that was dangling from the ceiling. That meant he was upside down, eight feet or so from the floor. Cas was his first thought as he noticed he was alone. He tried to look around and felt like a fish on a hook.

Cas was chained to a stone table. Which was carved with a lot of symbols and a few more sixes. On the floor there was a huge inverted pentacle that enveloped the stone table… Also drawn in blood and on each point of the pentacle there were gallons of white plastic with dark liquid inside.

He didn't know what it was but his guess was: more blood.

By the large quantity and knowing that blood magic was NEVER a good sign he could just think of one thing: they were screwed.

"Oh! My beautifull little pureblood has awakened! So young!" Said the thin man enthusiastically as he entered the room and stationed himself by the table where Cas was chained.

"You look so lost… Almost breaks my heart!" He said in fake hurt, but then the smile, this predator's smile lit his face once again and Sting felt fear grip him. "Oh! I know what we can do! I will tell you a little tale. Wizards just love a good story, isn't it? And I'm sure you will just love this story…" He said throwing his long white hair over his shoulder. He was wearing a different gown now… Something that looked like a silk robe in a crimson color.

"Let's see…" He said as he sat by Cas' feet on the stone table, his shins glaring too white at the dark background on the poorly lit room.

"Once upon a time, there were five powerful Wizards. Four of them wanted to start a school. While the fifth was an old loner that searched for more and more knowledge. The four asked the fifth to teach them everything he knew but the fifth wasn't the kind of person to share. He taught them only the basics of his arts, things that most people had forgotten for the fifth, was very old, indeed, even though he didn't look so. He told them of blood magic and he told them about demons and how they could increase their powers. He told them of Horcruxes, and unicorn blood and how it extended it's drinker's life. But they weren't brave enough, they were only silly pureblood kids… Like the ones the fifth one used to keep his youth. Yes… He used to sacrifice young purebloods for keeping a nice skin. I hear he still does."

"Though his knowledge was deemed as dark and locked away in books few had the courage to dabble on those who actually did got very famous. Ezrebet Bathory took blood baths and kept young, but was stupid and got killed. Voldemort made horcruxes but was a bit of control freak also got killed. Few understand that real power is in gathering knowledge and living to tell the tale."

"It's been working for me, you know. I keep my secrets and my friends close. And soon, your friend there will help give a body and life to a real good friend of mine and since he will owe me big time I will learn a lot of things and get a whole lot more years to live."

"Demons are so interesting when you get to know them! Of course they have this silly thing about freeing their boss Lucifer and ending the world. But I'm not into that. What they do is their problem as long as they keep their part of the bargain."

"Azazel will get me a hell of an extension when I get him his new body, especially if it is a powerfull wizard… Especially if it is the Winchester kid." The thin man smiled and Sting understood what it all was about. He would turn into skin treatment and Cas' body would be demon body.

Yeah, they were screwed.

 

 

**TBC…**


	24. Chapter 24

Dean looked at the scene and felt cold.

Cas was chained to a stone table and the setting looked a lot like his dream.

There was a man with white hair and he was monologuing like a Shakespearean actor minus the skull. The hair color and the stench of death was familiar. Like he had seen something like that before but where…

He saw the pentacle and the gallons… Blood. Blood from the murdered boys… He saw Sting upside down and knives beside the stone table.

He thought about demons but that thing didn't look like a demon.

"Shall we start, then?" He asked with such a happy smile that bordered on psychopathic. He walked to which one of the gallons and opened them.

He poised himself by the stone table and opened his hand in the direction of the blade that was on the side table a bit far from his reach and it came flying into his hand. Witch. Demon Worshipping Kind. Dean could almost smell the taint on his soul.

Dean unlocked his gun very, very quietly…

The man wasn't paying attention to him as he started chanting, loud and clear as if he was in theater and this was a grand finale of some drama. His knife was pointed at Cas' pale naked chest and Dean felt an iron grip around his heart. He also felt the unnatural coldness settle around the room and the lights started blinking. A black smoke came floating around the man who had the knife raised over Cas' chest and Dean had an even stronger sense of familiarity. He knew that thing. A flash of Yellow Eyes run through his mind's eye.

Dean pointed the gun to the guy's head, that thing wouldn't lay a finger on his boy. He shot him… Right between the eyes. Very close range.

The .45 bullet penetrated the forehead, the skull, and exited the head with gruesome blood shower. The body fell backwards… But mid-fall it stopped and stood again like a freaking zombie. A psyco smile lit in the thing's face which still sported the hole between the eyes leaking blood drops all over…

The thing started to laugh.

"Naughty, naughty Winchester boy! Ahuahauhauhauahuahauhau…." The thing laughed louder and it creeped Dean out. It moved its hand and Dean came out of his hiding place dragged by an unknown force. It felt like a demon's power for all he knew but as he got closer to the thing controlling him the stench of death hit him full force and a single name crept into his mind: Doctor Benson.

"So nice of you to come…hehehehhhehheheeheuheuhiheie…" He said in his blood red silk robe and the laugh made Dean feel even worse than before. Dean tried and kept his cool. Sting's eyes were the size of saucers and he looked scared like a little kid. He wasn't cut for this kind of shit. Dean needed to make the freak talk, buy some time for Sam and Harry to get there.

"Stop laughing! It's disgusting." He said back to the thing and the thin man laughed even harder and louder.

So loud even Harry heard from the top floor. He made his way down the iron stairs quickly and met Sam by the stairs which Dean had climbed down. The noise and the creepy laugh grew, and they decided to keep it quiet and access the situation.

"You know you are going to die, don't you? Hihihihi… Azazel is going to have SO much fun killing you, after… You know… You did send him to the limbo... It's a shame… You look healthy and tasty… I could barbecue you… Or wipe your mind to be my sex slave. That would be fun." He continued looking slyly at Dean as his hand snaked, cold and dead, down the hunter's chest under his shirt. Dean felt his skin crawl at the touch.

"I'm sorry to break it to you, buddy, but he is taken!" Harry said angrier than he had felt in a long time. He used his own powers to push the white haired man as far as he could from his man, making Dean who fall to the floor since the cadaver-man lost his control over the force securing Dean in mid-air. Harry and Sam were making their way to him but he sent them to free the boys, they were priority. Harry made short work of the chains holding them, levitating Sting to the ground and helping wake Cas up.

That's when they heard something. Steps…

Lots of steps.

Too many of them, really.

Before they knew they are surrounded by inferi.

"Hehehehhuhuhuhuhhhihhihih… You didn't really think I was alone, did you?"

The thin man said mockingly and he sounded and looked a bit like Jack Skellington in his blood red robes. But a lot more freakish with the bullet's hole in his forehead.

Sam and Dean started shooting salt rounds with their sawed-off shotguns to slow them down since they hadn't brought any metal bars to pin them to the floor. They hadn't faced this much zombies since Samhain's rising.

Harry remembered his last encounter with things like this and conjured fire, just like Dumbledore had done so many years ago in Tom Riddle's Island. Cas fallowed suit. He didn't have as much control without his wand as his father but he couldn't just do nothing. The fire made the zombies recede and bought them time.

Sting didn't have his wand. They must have taken it when they got him in the woods. He felt like a helpless child, but Dean saw the look on his face and threw him a shotgun. Sting picked it up, looked at it for moment, but a zombie was closing in on him. Before he knew he had pointed the thing at the thing and shot the zombie right in the chest making it fall a few feet from him. Dean and Sam smiled at him and he could say that he had done that right.

His happiness didn't last long though.

Soon the smiling face of Dean closed as the black smoke seemed to try to suffocate him entering his lungs by his mouth and nose. The silver gun he had picked up in place of the shotgun he had given to Sting fell from his hand and his knees buckled as got to his fours trying hard to breathe.

Harry went to him but his power could do nothing. The fire he was making disappeared as he tried everything he knew to release Dean.

"All that power…" The thin man looked with humor at a desperate Harry as he held onto Dean who was suffocating. Cas, Sting and Sam were working on keeping the Inferi away but with two down it just got harder and harder. "What does it add for without knowledge? Hihihihhihihuhuuhu…" The creep said and laughed revealing in his victory.

Cas decided in that moment that he hated the guy's guts, whoever he was. He just woke up to his dad's worried face in a sacrificial stone table and then a whole lot of zombies. This was the closest he had ever got to real hunting and if watching Dean choke to death as they had to worry about the zombies was what hunting was like he decided he didn't like it at all. The creep's laugh didn't help either and he was getting nervous. It was the craziest laugh he had ever heard and it was getting to him. He was getting afraid even though he tried his best not to show it.

It took Sting just a second to process that phrase: "What does power add for without knowledge?" He had read that. In the Restricted Section. Cas had stolen that book for him. A book about death and revival copied from a Greek scroll by an Argus Anakletus. It was the darkest book he had ever read. A necromantic book. He had asked for it for he thought it could help to revive damaged tissue, like Bobby's cervical and atrophied muscles. Now that he got a grip… The description fit! 'Black smoke with killing intent.' A demon's essence and young magick blood… According to the book… This was a way to bind the demon to your service… Forever.

"Cas! Come here!" He ordered and Cas was lost if he should comply or continue fighting and protecting his father and Dean. "NOW!" Sting screamed and Cas' instinct took him to his best friend who was already kneeling by one of the gallons with the blood. Castiel's eyes grew wider. Sting reached the recipient and started making a circle, a small one around them, tainting his fingers bloody and writing runes Castiel hadn't studied yet.

"Cas, you say what I tell you. This will protect us. Trust me." He said his eyes the color of a stormy sky.

"I always trust you." Cas answered with iron conviction.

"Repeat after me. 'I ban thee, Essence of Evil. Thy service is no longer required. Thy presence is unwanted. Thy will dismissed. I ban thee. To hell shall be banned thee for there is no place for thee in this earth. I ban thee. With thy malice and followers. Take what is thine and go. I ban thee. I ban thee. I ban thee.'"

Cas did so with all energy and the light in his soul, and even if this was black blood magick the fuel (Cas' power) was so pure the blood shone burning bright on the floor around them and turned to water. The light that gathered around them expanded and took down each and every Inferi around, even sending the thin man flying to the other side of the room.

Cas' magick washed over Sting and he could feel all the love he carried for his father and Dean and his brother and Uncle Sam… What surprised him was the love his best friend had for him.

As Cas' power receded the boy started swaying on his feet. The black smoke was gone. The Inferi were just dead inanimate bodies piling on the floor.

Castiel was too tired.

He fell on his knees, but Sting caught him and cuddled him with all the love and adoration he had felt for that boy ever since day one. "Rest. You deseve it." He said caressing his friend's face.

"Did I… do ok?" Castiel asked his eyes closing on their own.

"You were perfect." Sting answered and kissed his temple.

"UUUU-HOOOO! That was one hell of display of magic! Hhehehehehehe… You read my book! I'm so proud!" The thin man was still laughing even though he was there on the floor with most of his bones broken his leg and neck in odd unnatural angles.

Harry walked to him alone.

He left Sam to take cre of Dean who had regained his breathe and was recuperating. Harry still had pending business to take care of. No one touched his family and got away to tell the tale. He was done… Done being a good guy.

"You asked what good power is without knowledge… I'll show you." Harry said, his voice cold as a winter night. He whispered something into the air that the thin man couldn't hear. It was so low it sounded as someone's last breath. The thin man's eyes were old and very much magical. But he had never noticed Death's Mark on Harry, until that moment. It appeared clear to him then and his laughter died on his lips at once.

His old eyes, his magic eyes couldn't ignore the other thin man with waning dark hair that materialized beside Harry. He wore a white ring and a cane. The white haired man had never seen him but his body shook with one strong shiver of fear for he knew well who that was.

"I think this is yours, my friend." Harry said coldly and Death smiled back at him, wickedly and satisfied. Death decided he liked Harry. A lot.

"I've been looking for this for years." He answered casually as if Harry had just found an object he had misplaced a few weeks ago. The man on the floor started screaming and crying and crawling on the floor trying to get away and Harry just watched as Death followed the creature at a slow patient pace. Like he was savoring the moment.

An ear-spitting scream of a man whose worst fear was Death filled the room and resounded on the guts of every one of them as a cold hand touched his bony shoulder and his body, lifeless slid to the floor decoposing into dust by the second…

Harry was the only one who didn't seem impressed, he didn't even blink as the man died.

That should teach him. That should warn them.

No one messes with his family.

 

TBC…


	25. Chapter 25

Draco Malfoy was not an easy man.

He felt his life had been hard from the start. He had to live all his school life outshone by the Savior of the Wizarding World. For a child who had been always the center of all attention it was hard. He had offered friendship to Potter and been denied. Another thing that had never happened before, he had been humiliated in front of his peers, in front of Weasley!

If that wasn't bad enough, his family lost the Malfoy fortune for associating with a criminal, putting their lives in jeopardy and falling in social disgrace.

Most of his adult life he had spent working to gain the trust of the Wizarding Society so he could be respected just as his ancestors once were.

He hadn't married a girl he loved, he married Astoria, a girl who had been able to keep her family money during the war and thus became a Baron. Which was good and expected since he never truly believed he would be able to marry for love.

The problem was… His wife was sick with jealousy and was psychotic when it came to watch his every move, which means no escapades to be with other women as he would like. So he was an overworked lawyer with a frigid wife and no sex out of home.

To make things "perfect", she gave birth to Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.

His son was weak and disobedient.

Worse, he did things that he Draco considered be an affront to any other parent. He befriended Castiel Potter, the son of his most hated person, when he had strictly forbidden him! His son was nothing like him and he hated the fact that he had been born so alike Astoria, his crazy possessive mother.

He felt sorry for himself. His life was an eternal power game to climb back from where he had fallen, his wife was a bitch and his son was a joke. What could be worse?

The moment just after his son had been rescued from a murderous dark wizard. He should have been relieved. His only heir had just been saved from certain death. But Harry Potter and his Muggle Lover had done that. And if that wasn't bad enough they were treating his son as if they knew him well. Spoiling him, taking care of him in a way that was most inelegant and inappropriate for a pureblood. He felt offended for his child.

"You take your hands off of my son, you pederast!" Draco said with venom towards Potter's lover. Their pictures had been all over the papers a few years back. He didn't want his well constructed image associated with the likes of that muggle or Potter.

The man, taller than him by 3 to 4 inches, glared as if he could smite him just by staring him down. He almost expected the savage to bare his teeth, which of course he didn't.

"You go ahead and call me that just one more time. See what happens." Dean growled at the Baron almost sounding like Ted in a bad night.

"Dean, we are in a school." Harry said, mildly annoyed by the whole situation, Draco did that to him. He could already feel the blinding headache mounting in the back of his eyes. Dean wanted to answer that it had never stopped him before, but he decided to stay quiet, for Sting's sake. Harry sighed loudly and turned to Malfoy. "And if you are so bothered by our presence around your son, you should have thought better than permitting him to spend almost every holiday in Boston with us." He paused. As if he had just thought of something. "It doesn't make any sense, actually."

In that instant, Scorpius Malfoy wished feverishly that Mr. Potter had kept his big mouth shut.

"What nonsense are you gibbering about?" Malfoy asked as if he was totally insane. "Not even if my son was about to die a bloody painful death would I trust him with the lots of you." He sneered ignoring the fact that he had just done that since it had been the lot of them who had rescued his Scorpius.

Harry closed his eyes tightly against the headache that just started hammering his poor tired brain after all the fighting and the fear.

"So you are telling me you never wrote the permission letters that had been enabling Scorpius to spend every school holiday in the US with us." He asked calmly. He was too tired to blow up at the moment and if he did that it certainly wouldn't be in front of Malfoy.

"Permission letters? I would never, ever write such a thing. And you, are telling me someone have been writing letters in my name and that my SON, have spent every holiday in your house. When he wrote us saying he would be studying to improve his grades!"

Dean scoffed at the lie, Sting was among the top students in most his classes. "If he improves his grades anymore he will graduate early. Do you even know what his grades are?" 'dumbass' he felt tempted to complete, but held his tongue, things did not look good for the boys. He had to admit, though, that they had balls. They had been doing it since first year and that was pretty ballsy for a couple of eleven-year-olds.

"You stay out of this!" Malfoy screamed at the muggle, this man was seriously managing to irritate him. More even than Potter.

"If you never wrote them and I received then none the less, then who did it?" Harry asked glaring at both boys, but it lacked true anger. Harry's head was hurting far too much for him to get really angry at that moment and Cas was still knocked out in the overstuffed chair by the headmistress' desk. He looked as if in peaceful sleep.

"We did it, sir." Scorpius admitted. Trying for a bit of contrition but not completely succeeding. "I didn't want to go home and Cas didn't want me to be alone. Then it kind of became a habit since no one had noticed until now."

Draco was seeing red.

In that moment, when all expected him to blow up and scream like a mad man he started laughing. Laughing as if that was the most humorous thing he has ever heard.

"Not only weak, not only disobedient, not only freaking traitorous, you are also a cunning lying bastard!" He laughed some more. "The perfect Slytherin! It's a shame you decided to side with the likes of them. You could have made something out of yourself. You want to spend Holidays with them? I'll write a letter, I'll write all letters you need. As long as I don't have to look at your face anymore. If you weren't my only son…" He mumbled the end letting it clear that if Scorpius wasn't his only son he would have been disowned. Baron Malfoy left the premises with a nod to the headmistress. Dean was REALLY tempted to rip the man's throat just for hurting Sting like that. Harry's hand on his wrist the only thing holding him back.

Sting smiled then. A true smile. In a way… He had never felt as free as he did at that moment. He looked at Dean and shook his head as if saying he shouldn't worry.

"I'm going to be just fine."

 

TBC…


	26. Epilogue

Epilogue

That same year the whole Winchester/Potter Clan descended upon Bobby. They had gotten special leave from school since the school lost them and Ted was given his vacation early so he could recover. Bobby hated crowds but their family only grew despite all expectations. Despite life expectations of hunters, saviors of the world, Winchesters or Potters, which were all exceedingly low rated. He wasn't the kind to admit it but that made him happy. Filled the Scrap Yard with kids' laughter as Karen had always wanted. He loved them. Exactly as they were. But sometimes he wondered why those boys couldn't have had more girls... Or at least, gone for girls. Or stayed with some. Jane was such a blessing sometimes…

He bit his tongue, though.

Sting had brought a full box of bottles of something gray and gooey looking. He said it was a home made medicine to easy pains and afflictions. Bobby didn't want to drink that stuff… It looked nasty but he couldn't say no when those boys looked at him with that puppy stare they had to have learned from Sam.

As long as they were there, he drank the stuff after all meals. It didn't taste as bad as it looked.

Sometimes he would catch Sting following him around looking at him funny. He didn't know what it was about. But he would catch an expectant look from Cas once in a while. He didn't know what they were expecting until a week after he was drinking the the gooey thing.

Johnny was bringing in for his mom a cup of water. In his hurry, he tripped in the carpet and fell. The water on the cup wetting Bobby's legs and his wheel chair.

The funny thing?

He actually felt that.

In a few months time he could stand on his own. Grabbing onto things to steady him he even managed to walk a few steps. The more he worked the more it came back. In 8 months he was walking on his own. In a year and 3 months he was already running. Sting put every new experience Bobby told him in note pad and explained it would help him to perfect the formula to help other people. Maybe other hunters.

The more they grew, the more he knew Castiel and Sting were faces of the same coin. Like Sam and Dean. Like him and Rufus. Partners in the fight.

They were partners elsewhere too, more like Harry and Dean, but that wasn't any of Bobby's business.

It didn't take long for them to finish school. When they did, they went through Auror Training with Rose. They graduated with honors but that was not the life they wanted for themselves.

They left it all behind. Reformed an old car with Dean's help and hit the road. The first Wizard hunters ever.

And Bobby had lived to see it and be pestered by their problems just like the Winchester boys before them!

Bobby was convinced, more than ever before…

Family went far beyond Blood or Name.

 

The End


End file.
